


The Dragon and The Shadow 2: Anima Bound

by eoan



Series: The Dragon and the Shadow [2]
Category: RWBY
Genre: Action & Romance, Alternate Universe, Angst, Background Arkos, Background WhiteRose, Bumbleby - Freeform, Canon-Typical Violence, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Angst, background renora
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-27
Updated: 2020-11-04
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:33:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 43
Words: 246,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26680699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eoan/pseuds/eoan
Summary: Months have passed since the fall of Beacon; since the peaceful world of Remnant was shaken and Blake and Yang were torn apart. Blake has spent the time impatiently toeing the line while working for the shadowy RLIC, and finds herself at a breaking point with her dreamt-of return to Vale seeming further away each day. Meanwhile, Yang is just trying to forget, but every night her dreams torture her with visions of what was, what she's lost. As the far-flung lovers wrestle with their new reality, the Mistral Council throws the world further into chaos and edges the kingdoms closer than ever to war, forcing Blake to go underground, grudgingly accepting the help of her fellow agents as she tries to stop the coming calamity. Yang may care little for the fate of a world that seems so cruel, but an unexpected letter from her uncle reminds her that there are still people counting on her, and sends her racing across Anima, praying that she's not too late. As time runs out they both must wrestle with the demons of their past, while their world threatens to come crumbling down around them.
Relationships: Blake Belladonna/Yang Xiao Long
Series: The Dragon and the Shadow [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1941424
Comments: 151
Kudos: 75





	1. The Shadows of Memory

“Ladies and gentlemen, it’s time for the main event!”

_Wait for it._

“Please welcome, all the way from the burning sands of Vacuo…”

_Not yet._

“The Dancing Desert Roses!”

The house lights dimmed and spotlights flared as a small band burst into brassy, shouting life. A dozen women gyrated onto the stage, their vibrant silk costumes flowing about them as though underwater, always a half-beat behind the bodies they scarcely concealed.

_Hold._

The audience gazed in delight, all thought washed away by the tsunami of color and movement. A passerby on the street may have commented that those in the audience were very nearly as gaudily dressed as those on stage, with their sharply tailored suits and low-cut, flowing gowns. But such riffraff was generally turned away at the door. The finely dressed clientele of the Liberalia Lounge wasn’t there to be gawked at by their lessers, which is not to say that they weren’t there to be seen; one doesn’t spend an hour primping to be ignored. Nevertheless, while the vibrant dancers flowed across the stage it was nearly impossible to notice anything else. Not everyone in attendance had their eyes on the stage, however. While everyone from the small tables in the middle of the wide room to the VIP sections along the edges stared on in delight, several dark figures continued to lurk in the shadowy recesses, waiting for the agreed-upon time to make their move.

_Now!_

The instant the dancers slowed from their initial frenzy the identically clad figures sprang from where’d they’d been waiting and into action, their movements as coordinated as those on stage. They swept through the audience, each seeking out their first targets with silent precision. They closed in as one. Had anyone been paying them any mind at all they may have suspected they were part of the show.

Which, in truth, they were.

“Sir, your wine, and for you ma’am, whiskey neat. Can I bring you anything else?”

“A round of beer for the table. Enjoy, gentleman!”

“Two martinis, one with extra olives.”

The manager of the Liberalia, Farrow Vaccaro, insisted that his servers be perfect, always. Some thought him something of a control freak, but it was his impeccable attention to detail that set his club apart from the rest; it was what filled the seats every night and drew the kind of clientele who happily threw obscene amounts of money around on bottle service to impress their friends and dates. Personally, he considered perfection a low bar, and even when things achieved that level he sought ways to improve, ways to exceed his guests’ expectations at every turn.

That was why his recent hire was such a conundrum. She wasn’t perfect, far from it. He gritted his teeth as he watched her deliver a bottle of champagne, snug in its ice bath, to one of his most consistent customers: Lou Beringer. She was easily a half-second behind the other servers, breaking the perfectly orchestrated feel with her laxity. Worse, the way she moved and held herself was…different. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but something about her liquid grace made him uneasy.  
And those ears atop her head? He knew they heard too much.

Normally he would have fired her, but Mr. Beringer was quite taken by her. When she wasn’t on shift he always asked after her, and when she was he spent twice as much as usual and threw such enormous tips her way that the other servers had started to resent her. Farrow just couldn’t figure it out, other than to chalk it up to them both being faunus. Their type stuck together, everyone knew that. Farrow typically didn’t bother to look at the hands that passed him Lien, so long as the amount was right, but the whole situation was starting to leave a bad taste in his mouth. Besides, one server getting special attention was bad for morale.  
But morale didn’t pay rent, so for now, the tawny-haired girl stayed.

For now.

\--

“Fiona! I’m glad you’re here! It’s a special night,” Beringer said, leaning forward eagerly.

The waitress brushed a stray golden lock out of her face, smiling reflexively as those in the service industry are trained to do. “Oh?” she asked. “And what’s so special about tonight?”

“Come on, doll!” he cried. “It’s your birthday!”

Fiona shook her head in confusion. “What…?” but she pulled up short, her deep azure eyes going wide as she remembered.

“Quit playing around! I asked Farrow, he told me. Come and have a drink with us!” he implored, reaching for the bottle and pouring several glasses, passing them around to the immaculately dressed men and woman sitting around him before offering the final flute to her.

“You know I’d love to, but I can’t drink on shift, Mr. Beringer. I really appreciate it though,” she demurred.

“When do you get off?” he asked, the elegant faunus woman next to him letting the smile she had been sporting plummet from her face as she glared daggers at the nobody she was suddenly competing with. She sulked and reached absentmindedly to run a hand across her luxurious leopard-spotted tail.

“Not until after closing,” Fiona said, adding regret she didn’t really feel. “I really appreciate it though. I need to get to my other tables before Farrow has a fit, but I’ll be back to check on all of you soon.”

She wheeled around to head back to the bar and pick up a tray of drinks she needed to deliver, but as she walked she continued to listen to their conversation, hoping that she might catch something interesting.

“Lou, what the fuck?! I’m right here.”

“Relax sweet cheeks, I’m just playing. Besides, it wouldn’t kill you to learn how to share.”

“You are unbelievable.”

“Admit it, you’re as attracted to her as I am. Besides, you don’t see many calicos like her. With curtains like that, makes you wonder about…”

The rest of his comment was blessedly lost in the noise of the crowd, not that it stopped her from filling in the blanks and blushing furiously, her jet black ears pulling tight against the blonde hair below. She finished the rest of the shift mechanically, her clockwork smile believable enough to her intoxicated customers that she still pulled decent tips. Not that it mattered. Beringer out-tipped the rest of her tables combined by the end of the night, as always. Luckily his date wasn’t in the mood to loiter and she dragged him and his whole crew out into the warm evening well before last call.

Once all the other patrons had left and the tables had been wiped down and glasses put away, the wait staff made their way out through the back, grabbing their things and gossiping as they went, intentionally leaving Fiona out of their chatter, as usual. Catching the hint, she shoved past them as they paused at the back door to smoke and chat, eagerly seeking the shadows beyond the loading bay lights. Before she reached the safety of darkness a voice called out to her.

“Hey, Fiona, how was your haul tonight?”

She turned, meeting the eyes of the tall, rakish guy who’d addressed her, all too aware that everyone else was staring along with him. “Oh you know, typical Friday night.”

“So, what? Two, three times what the rest of us made?” he sneered.

Fiona strode back toward him, stopping just beyond arms reach. “I’ve offered to pool tips. I offer every time, and here it is again: do you want to pool tips?” she asked.

“I don’t need charity from a faunus,” he spat.

Fiona stared back at him in stony silence. Slowly, she scanned the faces of her silent coworkers, none directly supporting her adversary but none standing up for her. Typical. She looked back at up him. “Obviously you do, or you wouldn’t be bitching about it,” she sniped, her eyes boring into his. He clearly thought he could stare her down, but as the seconds stretched his discomfort grew until he was forced to look away. With a self-satisfied smirk, Fiona turned and strode off into the night. As she went she tried to ignore how quickly the others started shit-talking her, either unaware or uncaring that she could still easily hear them.

“They’re all alike.”

“Can’t be trusted.”

“She’s up to something.”

“Probably sleeping with that filthy mobster.”

“I hear the cats are like that, they’ll fuck anything with a pulse.”

Long after the actual voices were out of range their vile words still rattled around in her head. It was far from her first time dealing with racism, but before she had faced it while surrounded by other faunus. It was different when it was aimed at a group she was part of, they could draw strength and support from one another, formulate ways to overcome the assholes that conspired to hold them down. At other times she’d hidden what she was, or relied on support from human allies. But not in Mistral. Here she was exposed, vulnerable.

Alone.

As she strode down an empty street a tall figure stepped out of an alley, barring her path. “You know,” the shadowy man said, his voice low and rough. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were avoiding me.”

Well, not completely alone.

“Not now, Qrow,” she said, trying to step around the wiry man to continue on her way. She stopped short when he placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Yes, now,” he said, looking around to ensure they were alone. “We really need to talk, Blake.”

Blake’s eyes narrowed furiously as she stared down her handler. “What the fuck happened to discretion?”

Qrow shrugged, “I needed to make sure I had your attention.”

“Well you do, what do you want?”

“Not here.”

“Fine,” Blake said, shoving his hand off of her shoulder and stomping past. “Let’s go.”

Qrow didn’t move to follow. “Let’s not take the inner stairs, it’s a nice night.”

Blake turned, baffled by his suggestion. “Yeah, which means the inner stairs will be basically empty.”

But the infuriating man had already turned down the street that led to the outer stairway, waving casually for her to follow. Blake ground her teeth and bit back several remarks before jogging to catch up. As they reached the edge of the tier Qrow stopped at the handrail to take in the view. Grudgingly, Blake joined him, and even in her foul mood couldn’t deny that it was beautiful.

The city of Mistral was built in, on, and around a mountain. The two were so entwined that it was impossible to see where one ended and the other began, and in a way the distinction was meaningless. The club where Blake worked was located on the commercial level near the middle, a space filled with stores and restaurants and bars. The location was ideal both because it was a particularly wide section of the mountain, and because it was as easily accessed by the rich on the twin peaks above as it was the poor down below. From their vantage point on the edge of the tier, they could see out over the dense buildings below, shining through the dark like a distorted mirror to the stars that dotted the summer sky. Further off in the valley the lights gave way to darkness as the city transformed into farmland. The only sign of life in the sea of black was a single glowing dot racing through the emptiness; the headlight of the last train of the night speeding for its berth, no doubt carrying sleepy passengers looking forward to reaching their beds.

“Sometimes it’s good to remind yourself why you do what you do,” Qrow said distantly, coming dangerously close to speaking about their true work. That was rule number one with the Remnant League of Inter-kingdom Cooperation (also known as RLIC, pronounced relic, and often accented with a roll of Blake’s eyes if she was the one saying it); one of many. Most of them had to do with keeping secrets, whether about RLIC itself or the identities of its clandestine operatives. Then there were rules about endangering the lives of citizens or violating their rights, others about interfering in legitimate governance. Conspicuously absent were rules about not dying, but whether because they were thought self-evident or because the lives of agents were subordinate to the mission, Blake had yet to decide.

“Yeah, I guess,” she relented, trying not to admit to herself or him how invigorating the lovely view really was. “Come on,” she said after a moment. “My place is only two levels down.”

She joined the loose crowd on the stairs, weaving through them at a brisk pace downward and hoping to discourage idle chitchat, but the normally reticent man wasn’t in the mood to cooperate. Shocking. “Why aren’t you out with your coworkers getting drinks or something? Don’t people usually do that?” he asked idly, his long legs and narrow frame allowing him to keep pace with no apparent effort.

“I don’t know,” Blake replied, not eager to whine about how the cool kids wouldn’t let her sit with them at the lunch table. “Why aren’t you?”

This drew a laugh from Qrow, followed by a familiar sloshing sound as he pulled out his flask and took a draw. “Looks like I am. Cheers,” he said before taking another swig and replacing the top, drawing disapproving looks from a couple traveling in the opposite direction. “But you know what I mean. It’s been months, there’s no rule against making friends. Might help you loosen up.”

“But Qrow, why would I need friends when I’ve got you?” Blake deadpanned.

“Funny. I just figured you’d prefer to spend time with people your own age for once. Maybe even go on a date-“

Blake whipped around, the false blue of her eyes glinting harshly in the starlight as she stared up at him, ignoring the complaints of those they were holding up. “You know why I’m not going to do that.”

Qrow sighed. “Look, this may sound weird coming from her uncle, but I think it might be time to start moving on.”

“I…how could you say that?” Blake demanded, fighting to keep her voice level and gesturing rudely at the people shoving to get past her.

“Look, I’m sure what you and Yang had was incredibly special,” Qrow said, leaning in close and keeping his voice low. “but we don’t know when you’ll be able to see her again. You’re a good kid, I don’t want you to waste your life waiting for something that might never come. Take it from someone who knows: regret’s a bitch.”

Blake was too angry to even realize that Qrow had very nearly told her something about himself, something personal and real. It was all she could do to maintain her denial under the barrage of truth, and rather than face it she turned in a huff and stomped down the stairs, furiously wiping her eyes as she went. Why had her file needed to include conjecture on the nature of her relationship with Yang? Why did she need to be placed with Yang’s uncle, of all fucking people, for her assignment? As though being forced to leave wasn’t bad enough, she had to face this constant reminder of all that was missing every time she reported in.

When she actually reported in, that is.

She had expected him to catch up with her eventually, it wasn’t like he didn’t know where to find her. He’d helped get her the apartment they were headed to now, so it wasn’t much of a hideout. Work wasn’t any better, as he had been the one to secure her the job at the club in the first place. Not for the money—RLIC provided her a perfectly reasonable stipend—but for the access to a place where crime bosses and business leaders often rubbed elbows, exchanged gossip, and even orchestrated covert deals. Still, she had hoped to evade him for a bit longer, maybe a week more, but it seemed luck was not on her side, and after skipping two weekly check-ins he’d apparently had enough waiting.

They completed the rest of the short trek in silence, Blake studiously watching the stairs and then the short street to her apartment. Though she could easily afford something on a higher level with her combined salaries, it could potentially blow her cover, so she opted for a nice place on the edge of a more reasonable level. It likely even had a great view once upon a time, but at some point a developer had the bright idea of putting up a high-rise on the level just below, leaving her with nothing to look at out of her large windows but a blank white wall. Such an eyesore would have never been allowed in the upper echelons, but so it goes.

The main draw for Blake was the easily accessible fire escape with roof access, making coming and going without using the front door a breeze. Besides, the gleaming building blocking her view was close enough that with the right tools (and Blake had the right tools) she could even get to the next level down without ever descending to the street.

As they entered the space, Blake gestured haphazardly, indicating that her guest should make himself at home while she set down her things. Qrow looked around doubtfully; the apartment was large and modern, but Blake had neglected to furnish it in any meaningful way. Testing the lone wooden chair and finding it unsteady he opted to wait by the window, peering to either side and trying to catch a glimpse of something other than white stucco, with little success.

Blake flicked on various lights absentmindedly, detouring into the small bathroom and reaching for her contact case. She grumbled while fighting to remove the first. She had always been blessed with perfect vision, and she still wasn’t accustomed to the lenses she wore every day for her cover.

“I guess if this was my view I wouldn’t want to bring anyone around either,” Qrow snarked as she successfully wrestled the lens from her eye.

Blake leaned out of the bathroom, her gold and blue glare failing to cow her target.

Quite the opposite, in fact, as it drew a hearty laugh from Qrow. “You know that’s not a bad look for you.”

Blake scoffed and returned to her task. When she had wrenched the first one’s mate out of her eye and into its storage container she reached up and undid the hidden pins holding her wig in place. Gently, she pulled it up over her ears and set it on its stand, arranging its long golden strands before quickly removing the bobby pins holding her natural, dark locks in place. As she shook out her hair she looked for a moment at her reflection, trying to remember who she really was.

 _I am Blake Belladonna_ , she thought, over and over like an incantation, summoning a long lost persona back to life. It mostly worked, though the short haircut she had adopted when she moved to Mistral, bobbed just below her jawline, was still an adjustment. The fact that she only really saw it early in the morning or late at night certainly hadn’t sped her acclimation to it.

Qrow’s voice jarred her out of her ritual. “You all primped, or are you going to keep me waiting all night?”

“Do they pay you extra to be an asshole?” she demanded as she joined him.

“No,” he said, turning to face her and leaning against the wall. “You earned that all on your own. Why have you been avoiding me?”

“Do you want something to drink other than moonshine?” Blake asked, suddenly finding it impossible to stand still and seeking something to do with her hands.

Qrow glared at her. “No, I’m fine. Don’t change the subject.”

“I’m going to make tea,” she announced, striding around the small counter that separated the living room from the kitchen and reaching for the kettle. “Sure you don’t want some?”

“Blake,” Qrow intoned, his patience clearly running out.

She kept her eyes on her task. “I didn’t have anything to report.”

“Nothing at all?”

“Not unless you’re interested in gross comments from perverts, no,” she said, bringing the kettle down harder than necessary on the burner before flicking it on.

“Just because things have dried up doesn’t mean you get to go dark without warning.”

She looked up at him and shrugged. “You knew where to find me, and here’s my report: I have nothing to report.”

“Fine,” he shot back. “But try not to forget what you’re really doing here, and under whose orders.”

“How could I forget?!” Blake snapped. “How could I possibly forget the great and powerful Ozpin whisking me away from danger, tearing me away from my life with promises that have resulted in exactly nothing in nearly six months. Or how I was told that I was necessary in this fight, that I would be helping to bring down Adam and stop him from destabilizing the world, how could I forget that? Instead, I’m bussing drinks and getting ogled by morons in expensive suits while we’re no closer to discovering what the White Fang is planning next.”

“Blake, I know this has been hard-“

“Oh fuck off, Qrow. You don’t know anything!” Blake shouted.

Qrow waited for her to catch her breath, his piercing red eyes looking through her all the while. “I know more than you realize,” he said softly. “For instance, I know that three of Beringer’s men have reported someone breaking into each of their homes in the past few weeks. Would you happen to know anything about that?”

Blake schooled her expression and held his gaze. “No, was something stolen?”

“No,” he answered, as breezily as if discussing the weather. “That’s the weirdest part, they reported nothing stolen, nothing damaged. Their places weren’t even ransacked.”

Blake snorted her derision. “So how do they know someone broke in at all?”

“Because something was stolen, just not something they wanted to tell the cops about,” he said, pushing off the wall and strolling idly around the room.

“And you know this how?” 

“You aren’t my only source of information, you know. Seems the poor fools are trying their best to keep it a secret from their boss, so I’m guessing that it’s important.”

“Seems like conjecture to me,” Blake said, jumping just a hair when the kettle started to keen and hurrying over to tend to it.

“Possibly. What’s not conjecture is that all three were seen in the Liberalia on the nights they were robbed. Is there anything you’d like to tell me, Blake?”

Blake was the picture of innocence as she poured her tea. “Lots of people come to the Liberalia, especially from Beringer’s posse.”

Qrow stopped his ambling and crossed his arms, every inch the angry parent demanding an explanation from a wayward child. “If whatever you stole isn’t in my hand in less than a minute you’re out.”

“What…you can’t-“ Blake stammered.

“I can. Tick tock.”

Blake fumed at him for a portion of her allotted time before storming into the bedroom. Quickly and quietly removing the cover from the vent in her wall, she reached in and retrieved the three small notebooks that were stashed there. She replaced the cover and returned to find Qrow hadn’t moved an inch. The only visible difference was his monumentally disappointed expression as she all but threw the books at him. “I was going to tell you,” she huffed, crossing her arms petulantly.

“Oh yeah, when?” he asked as he flipped through the first notebook, squinting and turning it sideways after a moment.

“When I figured out the code,” she said. “I was hoping that there would be a key in Beringer’s place somewhere, I just hadn’t figured out how to get in there yet.”

Qrow slammed the book he had been skimming shut with a definitive thwack. “You were planning to hit Beringer himself?! What were you thinking? You’ve gone totally off the reservation here.”

“I’m trying to make actual progress, rather than just sit around twiddling my thumbs! I’m trying to save lives!”

“Like you did in Vale?”

“Yes!” she burst out. “Newsflash, I saved a lot of lives in Vale.”

“But not alone.”

“No, not alone,” she agreed, her voice wavering at the memory of Yang nearly bleeding to death in her arms. She doubted she would ever forget that gut-wrenching image or the feeling of helplessness and anguish that accompanied it. After it passed she fought to regain her momentum. “But without you. Where was RLIC while we were trying to stop the White Fang and fighting for our lives?”

“We were putting out a thousand other potential fires-“

“Yeah? Well, you missed a fucking inferno.”

“What do you want me to say? Fine, we aren’t perfect, we missed the signs on that one.”

“That much is obvious,” Blake sneered. “And no wonder, when you hold back your agents rather than allow them to do what they do best. When will you admit that you need me?”

“What I need,” Qrow said, his voice finally rising in response to Blake’s. “Is for you to stop pulling this lone wolf shit. You can’t just go running off breaking into people’s houses and stealing whatever you want. You have no idea what plans of ours you might be endangering. You’re part of a team now, you might want to start acting like it.”

“Team? I’m part of a team?” Blake said, looking around mockingly. “That’s news to me since I don’t see anyone else here and you don’t tell me shit! How am I supposed to know how to help if you don’t tell me what’s going on?!”

“Trust is earned,” Qrow said, his voice dropping back to a controlled growl. “You were doing well, that intel you snagged on that weapon shipment your boy Beringer was arranging for the Fang was critical.”

“Was it?” she demanded. “We didn’t even stop it from going through.”

“No, we didn’t,” Qrow replied, as though explaining for the thousandth time to a preschooler why cookies were not an acceptable option for dinner. “But we were able to trace his contacts and now we know for sure that he’s tied in with the White Fang, helping them with whatever they’re planning. That’s a huge lead for us.”

“And what have we done with it?”

Qrow sighed but didn’t deign to answer her question. “Look, I know things have been slow lately, but that’s the job. Why the sudden impatience? Is this about Yang?”

“No, it…no,” Blake said, finally regaining her composure. “It’s just…I want to stop Adam, and the White Fang, before they hurt anyone else. Then maybe…” she trailed off, afraid to voice her wish out loud.

But Qrow saw through her. “Then maybe you’ll be able to go back to your old life,” he said.

Blake bit her lip savagely, mortified to find herself crying in front of a man she knew to be many things, but never tender. To her utter shock, he stepped in and gave her a brief hug, parting just as quickly and rubbing his neck awkwardly.

“I know you probably don’t want to hear this,” he said grimacing as he searched for a diplomatic way to deliver his message. “But you know it’s not going to be that simple.”

“You’re right,” she said, her voice low and rasping. “I don’t want to hear it. Are we done?”

Whatever Qrow was about to say died on his lips. “Yeah, we’re done,” he said instead.

“Then if you don’t mind, I’ve had a long day and I could use some sleep,” Blake said, her tone frosty enough she thought even Weiss would be proud.

“Sure,” he said, showing himself out. He stopped at the door and looked back, a hint of steel returning to his voice. “I expect to see you at the usual time and place next week. Don’t stand me up again.” 

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Blake said, but he had already shut the door behind himself, leaving her, as ever, alone.

*** * * * ***

Yang stood motionless on the sidewalk, taking in the front of the house she had shared for several years with two sisters: one by blood and one by choice. Something about the sight of it left her unable to take another step closer. It looked much the same as it had when she’d left. Her motorcycle still stood in the corner of the driveway, locked and covered in a tarp, and Ruby’s old beater of a car was parked next to it. The lawn was neatly trimmed, and Yang idly mused that Ruby or Weiss must have paid someone to take care of that. The windows of the small, two-story house were dark, but with the sun streaming in through the open shades it wasn’t immediately apparent that no one was home. The only obvious differences were those one would expect with the changing of the seasons: small drifts of snow and barren trees had been replaced with budding leaves and flowers at some point, and those, in turn, had given way to the explosion of greenery that now covered the entire neighborhood. If she hadn’t known better, she might have thought that the girls were out running errands, or maybe at the library studying. 

The house was midway up the hill from Vale to Beacon University, and she could just make out parts of the city below through a gap in the trees in the backyard. She caught glimpses of neighborhoods with too many memories best left behind for the view to be pleasant, so she didn’t let her gaze linger. Habit drew her eyes up, searching for the one landmark from Beacon that you could see from almost anywhere in Vale: the top of the CCT tower.

For a disorienting moment, she thought she was looking in the wrong place, but a second scan of the forested hill above her confirmed what she had read in the news but hadn’t fully accepted: there was no tower. Despite the pleas from Vale over the intervening months, Atlas refused to fix the tower. In all the confusion following the attack, many had blamed Atlas for bloodshed that hadn’t even occurred and destruction that hadn’t been their fault. It was hard to argue with the image of a squad of Atlas’s finest killing machines opening fire on a peaceful protest. Vale had lost communications before it could tell the world that those people had lived, and who the real perpetrators of the attack had been. Ever since, talk of war had proliferated and Atlas had refused any aid to other kingdoms in favor of strengthening its own defenses. Trade embargos were being threatened, and there was even talk of closing borders. All the while Vale was left pleading for help and receiving none.

The kingdom had done its best to get by on relay towers and physical mail, mostly managing despite some pain points along the way. There had been a lot of tension and confusion when the tower had fallen, especially with the image of the attack fresh on everyone’s minds. City officials had been quick to get limited communication back up within the city, however, and before fear and anger could lead to more violence, the truth of what had happened filtered out to the people.

Or at least, a version of the truth.

Adam Taurus and the White Fang were implicated, of course, which was true, but it still rankled Yang that no one seemed to know who really prevented the massacre. Then again, given that her part in it probably should have landed her in a cell (hacking military equipment was frowned upon and, it turns out, quite illegal), she supposed she should count herself lucky that local authorities had claimed all the credit.

Still, blaming the White Fang might not have been enough to quell the outcries against the militarization of the police had the Council not stepped in and demanded that all police-issued Paladins and other military-style weapons be immediately decommissioned, with funds initially earmarked for the requisition of more being diverted to community projects. It was a good move, and it mostly worked. As the relay network was improved and tensions de-escalated, life in Vale more or less got back to normal. As normal as it could be without a solid link to the outside world, anyway.

Oddly enough, it wasn’t Vale that was struggling the most with the loss of communications, but rather Mistral. Their central cities were fine, still able to access global communications via their own tower, but many of their distant settlements were completely cut off. The villages in the western region of Anima were too small for their own relays and had actually relied on the closer tower in Vale for communication, rather than their more distant capital city. Now, with the loss of Beacon Tower, the people in that region were more isolated from their kingdom than ever, and it was stirring up a great deal of unrest, not to mention emboldening the thieves and criminals who had always preyed upon lone travelers but were now going so far as attacking villages directly.

At least, that’s what the reports that filtered back into Vale claimed. It was hard to be sure what was accurate, much less current, but the picture being painted was not a hopeful one. That was why Yang was so terrified to enter her house. Like searching for a tower she knew wasn’t there, she had yet to confirm the truth of the letter tucked away in the bag slung over her left shoulder.

“No time like the present,” she said to herself as she walked slowly up to the quiet house.

She dropped her bag and fished in her pocket for her keyring, fumbling slightly as she pulled them from her pocket and looked for the front door key. Her left hand had begun to accept its role as dominant, and only, hand, but she still found herself struggling with basic tasks. When she finally landed the desired key between her fingers, she unlocked the door with a huff before reaching for the handle and pushing it open. No one noted her entry, and she didn’t bother announcing herself as she bent and picked up her bag. She took one more breath, went inside, and kicked the door shut behind her with a solid thud. Still, no one came.

Because no one was there.

Yang flopped down on the couch and stared out at the brightly lit street in front of the empty house. It was such a cheery scene, so full of life and color and possibility, but inside the house, there was nothing but shadows and silence and memories.

She reached for her bag, pulling the much-handled letter from the small outer pouch and looking at it again. She had long since memorized its contents but something about rereading the words, almost like an incantation, was soothing. Odd, considering that when the letter had arrived in Patch it caused such a storm of fear and anger.

> _Dad and Yang,_
> 
> _Made it to the end of my last rotation this term! With all the craziness I almost forgot I was in school, but here I am, only one more year to go. The good news is that the dean has assured us classes will start as usual in the fall, so I’ll be finishing on time, which is a huge relief. This has been a rough year, in more ways than one, and I’m ready to move on to the next step._  
> 
> 
> _That’s why I’m writing you, actually. With only one more year left in school and so little time before I have to choose a specialization, I’m feeling really lost. I thought I knew what to do, but all of a sudden I’m not so sure. All I know is that I want to help people, but that’s a little too broad of a starting place. What I need is experience, and I think I’ve found a good opportunity to get it. With all the chaos in Western Anima they are desperate for medical volunteers, and my mentor, Dr. Oobleck, thinks it could be really good for me and my career. I think it will also be good for me personally; I need a little space to think about a lot of things._
> 
> _I’m sorry that you’ll find out this way, but by the time my letter reaches you I’ll already be on an airship to Anima. Don’t freak out, I’m going with a group of people and we won’t be doing anything dangerous, just helping people who need it. I would have told you sooner, but frankly, I figured you’d try to stop me, and my mind’s made up._
> 
> _I love you both more than anything, and I’ll be back a few weeks before the fall semester starts. If I can write letters in the meantime I will. Take care of each other._
> 
> _Love,_  
>  _Ruby_

There had been a great deal of yelling when the letter had arrived, but little either of them could do. They sent a message to the school via the sketchy connection that seemed to work about half the time on Patch, but when the reply finally came back three days later it confirmed that she had already left, providing pat assurances that she was in good hands and would be totally fine.

The real yelling came later; after Tai had paced around the house asking the walls every possible version of “Why did she go?” until Yang couldn’t contain her awful truth anymore. She came clean about her former fighting career, the real story of the fall of Beacon Tower, everything. He listened to it all in stunned silence, then unleashed a tongue lashing unlike any Yang had ever witnessed or even believed him capable of. Then it was over. Once his anger had burned itself out, he was able to listen to her heartfelt apology, wrapping her in a bearhug as he did and promising that though he didn’t understand why she had done it all, he still loved her, and always would.

Saying everything out loud, Yang had to admit that she didn’t fully understand it either, and tucked the memory of the Dragon into the same mental container as Raven and getting shot and losing an arm.

And Blake.

Those were parts of herself and her past that brought nothing but grief, so she had decided to pack them away and leave them behind. The only path forward was her work, and though that meant returning to the site of the worst night of her life, her work was at Beacon. The therapist her father had made her see while she was home had plenty to say about how she still needed to deal with her trauma, but Yang couldn’t see how dwelling on it was better than simply moving on, so she had completely disregarded that advice and began making plans to return.

Still, something had held her back, and each time she thought she was ready to leave Patch, she came up with another reason to stay. It had taken nearly a month for her to run out of excuses, and now that she was finally back she wondered if she had come back too soon. The stale air around her still vibrated with faint echoes of the past, like the brief pause after a virtuoso plays the last chord, the notes gone but still ringing in the souls of the captive audience for a breathless moment before they leap to their feet to applaud.

Except there would be no applause, simply the empty space and the shadows of what once was.

Yang shook her head and climbed to her feet, fighting not to slip into the near-comatose state she had spent much of the spring in as she looked for something productive to do. Seeing nothing in her immediate vicinity she walked back outside into the blinding sunlight, strolling down the drive to their bright red mailbox, smiling at the memory of their fight to pick a color when they all agreed the original brown was unbearable. At the time Pyrrha was still living with them, and she and Ruby teamed up to overrule the other suggestions, so red it was. Yang knew she had a picture around somewhere of Ruby’s gleeful pride when she finished painting it, her face streaked with crimson.

Opening the cheery red box revealed a thick stack of envelopes wedged inside, and Yang had to carefully pry them loose so as not to dump them on the ground, then carried the stack back into the house to examine it. The vast majority was junk, as usual, but at the bottom of the pile were four identical envelopes, all addressed in the same elegant handwriting, all postmarked from Atlas.

The first three were all addressed to Ruby, and these Yang set aside in favor of the last, addressed to her. Unable to contain her curiosity or desire for a taste of the familiar, she tore it open, smoothing its contents out on her lap.

> _Dear Yang,_
> 
> _I’m sorry I haven’t written you much over the past months, but I wanted to allow you space to heal before trying to make amends for, well, everything. I don’t think I can relate to you how terrible I feel about my part in what happened to you, but for the record: I am so, so sorry. I hope that someday I have the opportunity to say so to you in person, and to do my best to make up for it in any way I can._
> 
> _I’m writing to you now because, frankly, I’m worried. Ruby has every right to be furious with me, but I had hoped that one of my weekly letters would have garnered a response by now. I’m not sure if she’s shared the contents of them with you or if, indeed, she has even read them, but it was difficult for me to put the things I did into writing and send them off like that. I had hoped that she would at least respond to tell me she would never forgive me, that I should stop. Any response would have been better than this silence._  
> 
> 
> _If it is simply the case that she’s mad at me then so be it. I know that you don’t owe me anything, but if you could at least tell me that she is safe and healthy I would be forever in your debt. Things are growing tense here in Atlas, and it’s hard not to let the widespread anxiety sink in a bit._  
> 
> 
> _I hope you are well, and that you are healing and finding a way to overcome this. I know you will, you are without a doubt the strongest person I have ever met, and I can’t imagine anything stopping you._
> 
> _Love always,_  
>  _Weiss_
> 
> _P.S.: I almost forgot, I graduated as planned two weeks ago! I’m clerking while I plan my next steps. It’s hard to believe that I’ve made it this far, and I confess that without you and Ruby my task feels more daunting than ever. Wish me luck!_

Yang sat back guiltily, she hadn’t intentionally stonewalled Weiss while she was in Patch, she had just been so caught up with her own pain and grief that everything else had simply ceased to exist. The letter in her hand was a stark reminder that the world hadn’t stopped turning when she retreated from it, and people she cared about had been left to wonder while she hid away and moped.

Glancing back over the letter, she wondered at Ruby’s intentional snub. She had known her little sister was beyond angry over Weiss’s part in Yang’s deception, but she had never known her to hold a grudge so long. Curious, she scooped up the three letters with Ruby’s name on them and walked up the stairs to her room. It was oddly neat. Apparently, Ruby had been in a cleaning mood before she departed. The general lack of clutter made the small messy pile of letters strewn across the desk that much more obvious. It didn’t take long to see that every single one was from Weiss, nearly two dozen in total, all with their original seal intact.

Yang gently set the newest three with their siblings, staring at the sad little pile and finally allowing herself to feel the guilt of the hurt she had caused. Sure, Weiss had been involved in the final coverup, but Ruby’s anger stemmed from Yang’s betrayal, and she had to own that. In a way though, she rationalized, it wasn’t exactly her fault. It was the Dragon, that violent alter-ego that had been so brutally excised from her. She still owed Ruby the mother of all apologies, but she knew she would never hide something like that again. That part of her life was entirely behind her.

Regardless, there wasn’t much she could do about Ruby for the moment, so she tried to focus on repairing the damage she could. Weiss deserved a response, if for no other reason than to put her mind at ease about everyone’s wellbeing. Since it was already too late for mail pickup, she decided that to could wait, if only until tomorrow. In the meantime she pulled out her scroll, shaking her head at the familiar warning that the connection was unstable and local only, and opened up a text to someone who absolutely deserved to know she was back.

> **Pyrrha**
> 
>   
>  _Hey! As you can probably guess by this message reaching you, I’m back in Vale._ _You may have heard from Dr. Polendina that I was coming, but I wanted to tell you myself, now that I’m here._ _I also wanted to apologize for not writing in all this time. I was going through a…hard time, to say the least._ _I’m so sorry. I feel like I owe you dinner (or ten dinners, or a hundred), so let me know when you’re free. I’d really love to see you._

Yang had barely finished folding her scroll when the reply message came through. Classic Pyrrha.

> _OMG YANG! I’m so glad you’re back and don’t think for a second that you owe me anything._ _You went through hell and did what you had to in order to get through. Dinner would be lovely, and since it’s Sunday and we always have room for one more why don’t you come over and let us feed you?_

Yang hardly had to weigh such an offer versus her current plan of absolutely nothing.

> _Obviously I’m in! When should I come over?_
> 
>   
>  _You’re welcome anytime! Ren is just starting to prep now._

Without her realizing it, Yang’s face had split into a wide smile, straining a few muscles that had atrophied a bit recently but enjoying the feeling nonetheless. Nothing like dinner with the gang to make her feel at home.

It took a significant effort not to remind herself that some very dear faces would be absent from the table, but she managed.

\--

“Yang!” Pyrrha cried as she opened the door and enveloped Yang with her long arms. “It’s so good to see you!” 

“It’s good to see you too Pyrrha,” Yang said, awkwardly returning the embrace with her wine laden hand.

Pyrrha stepped back, her eyes flicking down to the sleeve of Yang’s light jacket, knotted loosely where her elbow should have been. Her gaze jumped away quickly enough that it may have been a coincidence, but her guilty expression as she led her guest inside showed it wasn’t.

“Pyrrha, it’s fine,” Yang insisted. “I’m fine.”

“No, I know, I’m just…I’m sorry,” replied her flustered friend. “Can I take that for you?” she asked, indicating the wine bottle.

“Sure,” Yang allowed. “That would be great.”

Her hostess relieved her of her burden and turned to deliver it to the kitchen and Yang kicked off her sneakers and followed, enjoying the familiar sounds and smells of cooking as she went. Nora and Jaune were at their usual stations, hovering near the counter and making largely useless observations and suggestions while Ren did all of the actual work. After Yang repeated different variations of greeting her friends and then assuring each of them that she was fine and not about to shatter if they bumped into her too hard, they all relaxed. Despite Weiss and Ruby’s absence, it was exactly the type of return to normalcy that Yang had so desperately been seeking, and as the night wore on she was glad to see her friends stop looking at her right arm when they thought she wouldn’t notice, and eventually the pity that haunted all of their eyes began to evaporate. It was clear they were all still dancing around the subject, but she couldn’t blame them for that. She wasn’t exactly eager to talk about it herself.

As they were all sitting around the table digesting and discussing what each of them had enjoyed most, Jaune finally broached the other topic that had been avoided all night.

“So…any word from Weiss or Ruby?” he asked.

Yang shrugged, trying to project a confidence that was based on logic if not the truth. “Ruby’s in Anima doing volunteer work, she should be back in a month or so.”

“Yeah, we heard,” Pyrrha said, her unspoken worries written all over her face. “She hasn’t written since arriving?”

“No, but getting letters in and out of that region is slow and difficult in the best of times,” Yang said, mostly reassuring herself. “Don’t worry, I’m sure she’s fine.”

“Of course she is,” Pyrrha agreed, her smile a little too big and a little too late.

“And Weiss is up in Atlas. She actually just graduated, so that’s cool,” Yang said vaguely, realizing with a pang of guilt how little she had to report on the two people who were supposedly closer to her than anyone.

Jaune raised his glass in salute. “Typical Weiss. I knew she’d find a way to beat me at that too. I’m graduating a semester late with everyone else due to the disruption from…” he said, faltering. “Well, you know.”

Yang laughed, willing it to sound good-natured. “Yeah, I know. And that is a very Weiss thing to do, you’re right.”

“What about Blake?” Nora asked, her normally impish grin replaced by earnest concern.

Yang finished the remains of her rather full wine glass in a single go. “How should I know? She vanished before I woke up, so your guess is as good as mine.” Before anyone could comment on her sudden shift in tone she waved her empty glass. “Is there any left?”

Ren wordlessly got up to fetch the bottle, a pained look on his face at the awkward energy reverberating around the table. Everyone remained frozen in awkward silence until Pyrrha took it upon herself to pick up the pieces of the conversation.

“Well, we’re all just glad you’re back,” she said warmly.

“Me too!” agreed Yang, overcompensating for her earlier remark. “It’ll be good to get back to work.”

“I bet,” Pyrrha agreed. “Any thoughts on the design of your next prototype? Maybe it could be a bit more…practical?”

Yang held her right arm up, tired of pretending. “You mean for this?” she said with a sloppy grin, the wine finally catching up to her. She looked down at her hanging sleeve thoughtfully for a moment. “Yeah, I suppose I could, but I mean I don’t really need it.”

“What?” Nora asked, looking around to make sure everyone else was as confused as her. They were.

“I mean yeah, maybe eventually, but it’s not like there’s a rush,” Yang explained. “I’m a lab rat, I do my work with my brain, and even the tinkering I do can pretty easily be done with one hand. I leave the manual labor to people like you,” she said with a wink to Nora. Seeing that her friends were nonplussed she went on, “Guys, I appreciate that you want to help me get back to normal, but this has been my normal for a while. Now I’m just focused on moving forward. Ok?”

“Of course, Yang,” Pyrrha said, her concern as well hidden as she could manage, which is to say, poorly.

Soon the conversation picked back up, and Yang was granted a bit more of the normalcy she so desperately sought. Despite their protests that she was the guest of honor for the night, Yang insisted on helping with cleanup when the time came, making a point of carrying ludicrously tall stacks of dishes over to the sink to remind everyone that she wasn’t helpless. Given the competitive nature of her friends, this led to a very rowdy cleaning process, and soon everyone was laughing and shouting while Ren looked vaguely horrified at the dishes flying wildly to and fro from washing to drying to the appropriate places in the cupboards.

Jaune, caught up in the rhythm, let the last glass fly before realizing that Yang’s eyes were closed as she laughed at Nora’s antics. “Yang, head’s up!” he cried when he saw his error.  
Yang’s right arm shot up immediately, followed a split second later by her left. The glass hit her palm awkwardly and tumbled to the ground, exploding at her feet in a shower of crystalline shards, and drawing a panicked gasp from her lips.

The rest of the group watched helplessly as Yang lunged back against the counter, her eyes wide and searching for a danger that wasn’t there while her chest heaved rapidly.  
Slowly, a single hesitant step at a time, Pyrrha approached her, raising her open hands as she did. When Yang’s wild eyes finally came back into focus, Pyrrha drew her into a hug. “It’s ok, everything’s ok.”

Yang blinked, then shook her head and gently pushed her friend back. “I’m fine, sorry. It just startled me is all. Where’s the broom? We should clean this up.”

“That’s ok, I’ve got it!” Jaune called out, stepping over to the closet to fetch it and returning promptly.

“Jaune, please, I’m not an invalid. I made a mess, I can clean it up,” Yang said, slowly but firmly pulling the broom from his hand.

“Right…of course,” he said before retreating to the sink to finish the last few plates.

Once everything was put to rights, Yang immediately made for the door, making excuses and bidding everyone goodnight as she went.

Pyrrha followed, not believing the act. “You don’t have to go so soon,” she offered as they reached the door.

“It’s just been a long day, that’s all,” Yang said breezily, ignoring her pounding heart. “I need to get some sleep so I’m rested and ready to get back to it tomorrow!”

“Right,” Pyrrha said slowly. Yang hoped she couldn’t see the thin sheen of sweat she could feel on her forehead. “Yang, are you sure you’re ready to be back?”

“Of course, Pyrrha,” she said with a stilted laugh. “I’m fine, really. Never better!”

“Ok…well, it’s lovely to have you back, Yang.”

“Thanks, it’s good to be back. Goodnight!” Yang chirped as she left, maintaining her jaunty swagger until she reached the elevator and the doors closed firmly behind her.  
When she was finally alone she sat down hard on the rubber floor, dropping her head onto her bent knees and wrapping herself in a one-armed hug. When her heart no longer felt like it was going to force its way from her chest and her breathing was respectably close to normal she stood, blinked open her eyes, and pushed the button for the ground floor.

“Never better,” she murmured to herself.

The walk back did little to clear Yang’s mind, and when she reached her darkened home she couldn’t even bring herself to turn on any lights as she dragged herself upstairs to bed. She may have tossed and turned the whole night had she been a little less exhausted or drunk, but instead, she slipped immediately into a fitful sleep full of pain and flames and blood.


	2. The New Normal

Blake rose with the sun. Or rather, she rose with the reflection of the sun off of the wall outside her window. Weekends were hardly times of rest given her job at the Liberalia, but rather than sleep in to be fresh for her shift she preferred to spend her Saturdays at the market three levels below, so she forced herself out of bed like someone with a far more normal work schedule. 

She moved through her largely empty apartment, throwing wide her windows and letting the remnant of a mountain breeze trickling down the alley into her apartment. It was going to be a hot day and the air that came in was already headed in that direction. Something about it was refreshing regardless, and Blake breathed it in eagerly before setting a kettle on the stove and getting herself ready to depart.

As always, she spent several seconds angrily debating with herself over her disguise. Few knew her as either Fiona or Blake down below, and she had an easy method of coming and going without being seen. What would the harm be in…? As always, she stopped herself, this time remembering Qrow’s words. Going out without her disguise was just childish nonsense, no reason to take the risk. Besides, there was one place where she was known, and her blonde locks would be expected there.

“I am Blake Belladonna,” she said firmly to her reflection.

Then she wasn’t.

While clothing up above leaned more towards popular fashions that could be found the world over, mostly in Vale and Atlas, down below people wore much more traditional Mistral garb. To help herself blend in, Blake, now Fiona, wrapped herself in a long, unadorned dress with flowing sleeves, closing it with a sash that encircled her waist. The sandals she donned as part of her outfit weren’t ideal for running or climbing, but they were sturdy and comfortable enough for walking the cobblestone streets of the market. She looped her arm through her wicker basket, completing the look, and let herself out into the day.

Pulling her light hood up against the bright morning sun she set off for the stairs, taking the outer ones more for convenience than a desire for the view. It was hard to ignore once she was there, however, and like the newcomer she was, she found herself frozen on the stairwell, gazing out at the mist rolling across the valley below. The sun hadn’t trickled down to the fields and rivers at the base of the mountain yet, but Blake could almost see the farmers and fishermen moving about their morning routine in the predawn light, feeling like a voyeuristic deity as she watched.

A bump on her shoulder as someone shoved past reminded her that gaping was not encouraged on the busy causeway, and she turned her eyes and feet toward her destination. Her first trip to the market had been shortly after she arrived in Mistral. Out exploring one day, she had simply followed what felt like the primary flow of people through the streets it deposited her amidst rows and rows of canopied stands containing essentially everything from food to weapons; though the latter were tucked away in remote corners with plenty of hard looking people to dissuade unwelcome customers. Her first purchase had been the outfit she was sporting currently. She hated sticking out and it was obvious that her clothes from Vale weren’t going to serve her well in the lower levels of the city. After that, she found herself drawn to the market time and again. It almost let her feel normal for a few hours each week.

It also didn’t hurt that she had found a stand with the best fish in Mistral, at least as far as she could tell. The wonderful cuts they sent her home with were perfect for her determined forays into cooking that had resulted in more than a few disasters but were slowly heading in the right direction. 

“Fiona! How are you on this glorious morning?” called the fishmonger, wrapping up a fish for her without even asking, knowing what she liked so well there was no need anymore.

“Good morning Mr. Ebis! I’m well, how are you?” she said, warmed by the intimacy of being known, even in such a superficial way, even if the person he knew wasn’t really her.

“Not as young as I used to be, but not as old as I’ll be tomorrow!” He smiled up at her, wagging his wild, feathery eyebrows as he delivered one of his favorite punchlines. Mr. Ebis was a portly old faunus. What hair he had left was mostly composed of black and white feathers.

Blake laughed at the tired joke. “And how are Sara and the kids?”

“Bah! Who needs ‘em? Bunch of layabouts and nags if you ask me. Not like you, Miss Fiona,” he said, a glint in his eye. “Why don’t the two of us run away together, leave all this behind?”

With the timing of a mummer’s troupe, his wife leaned out from behind a stack of fish, waving a rather large knife his way. “You knock it off, stop embarrassing that nice young woman. Besides, where are you running off to? You couldn’t find your own ass with two hands and map without me,” she said, no real malice in her tone as she went back to dressing fish. His wife was an imposing woman, whether wielding a knife or not. Mr. Ebis’s head barely drew level with her shoulders, and broad shoulders they were. Between her imposing stature and strong features, as well as a set of rounded furry ears perched atop her brown hair, it was fair to say that Mrs. Ebis was more handsome than beautiful, but that seemed to suit her just fine.

Blake adored the look of unadulterated love in the old fishmonger’s eye as he gazed at his wife before sighing and shaking his head. “She’s right, unfortunately, I’m useless without her,” he said, turning back to Blake with a wink. “Guess our tryst will have to wait.”

Blake rolled her eyes and smiled as she took the proffered package and passed him back Lien. “I’m starting to think you’re just stringing me along,” she said, drawing a belly laugh from him that warmed her heart. As she tucked the fish away in her basket she smiled at his two burly sons who were setting down the latest crate of fish they had hauled up from the base of the mountain. Layabouts indeed.

“How about one of my boys then?” Mr. Ebis asked as she turned to go.

“I’ll think about it!” Blake offered with a laugh and a wave over her shoulder, continuing to chuckle to herself while the boys yelled at their father, drawing still more laughter from the old man.

Besides simply liking them (and their fish), Blake found the routine of talking with the Ebis family important for maintaining her sociability. A loner by nature, she was well aware of how easy it was to avoid people for so long they started looking like strange creatures, and it wouldn’t do for her to become awkward when her life depended on blending in. Her current job did little to encourage her to make friends, no matter what Qrow might say, so she thought of her trip to the market as an important form of training, a way to keep her survival skills sharp.

Mostly though, she went for the gossip. The market drew many people from further down the mountain, including several unsavory characters who could be seen cutting through the crowd like a stiff breeze through nervous reeds. They didn’t talk much, but Blake watched them for signs of where they went and at whose behest, hoping to glean something in the process.

Far more fruitful were those from above. The market was much too far for the gentry, but it seemed they had no problem telling their servants to make the hike. On days like this one, where the sun bore down on those passing between the covered stands and the air grew hot and close, those on errands for their employers were prone to taking their time and stopping for drinks at one of the many makeshift cafes dotting the market.

Going through her usual ritual, Blake chose a spot that seemed popular enough to draw people but secluded enough that those people might loosen their lips. She ordered tea from the woman behind the counter, selected a seat, pulled out a book, and waited for information to come to her. Much of it was useless nonsense about meaningless squabbles between the wealthy: so-and-so had slighted so-and-so and now they held a grudge, someone was sleeping with someone they shouldn’t and the parties who felt wronged were planning petty revenge. Occasionally, however, far more tasty nuggets reached her sharp ears, covered though they were by her hood.

That was how she had caught wind of the little notebooks she had stolen; a servant had complained that his master was sending him on bizarre errands, desperately trying to come up with the money to pay off Beringer’s man, cursing his ‘little black book’. Some pointed eavesdropping at the Liberalia had helped her put the pieces together. If Qrow had just given her a little more time…

Blake’s thought was interrupted as two patrons at a nearby table began speaking urgently in hushed tones, and she leaned ever so slightly toward them as she listened. She sat back a moment later, doing her best to hide her disgust at their overly detailed discussion of a maid that one of them worked with. It was not something she cared to overhear.

After an hour of meaningless drivel, Blake felt she had heard enough, and got up to make one last pass through the market before heading back to her empty apartment.

Alone.

As she wandered the stalls she tried to remind herself how lucky she was. When she had first run to the police it had been with the expectation that she would end up in a cell. It was a sacrifice she would have made gladly to protect Yang, but what she hadn’t expected was the offer she received: help stop Adam and someday win the right to walk freely without hiding who she was. It was such an amazing opportunity she would have been a fool to say no.

In a way, she felt like she should have, though. Prison had represented a form of escape, specifically an escape from hope. She knew where that path led, it was clear and horrible but final. Instead, she had the shiny carrot of freedom dangled in front of her, the vague promise that someday, someday, if she stayed in line, she might be free to go back and throw herself at the mercy of the only court whose opinion she cared about: the one in Yang’s heart.

But that hope was a double-edged sword, and the edge rending her flesh was jagged and rough. She had held her tongue for months, doing as she was told without complaint, but always that hope was worrying at the open wound in her heart. Every day was another disappointment as she came to realize anew that while a magical someday still existed where she would be reunited with her love, today was not that day.

Tomorrow wasn’t looking good either.

And that was assuming that Yang would even want to see her. The way Blake had left? She knew how it looked, and no matter how much she hoped otherwise she knew it was likely that the one thing keeping her going was pure fantasy, an illusion that would dispel as soon as she reached out to grab it. Leaving her with nothing.

Hope was a hell of a thing.

Blake mounted the steps leading back to her level, completely ignoring the sun-strewn view of the magnificent city and fields below her as she trudged back to her so-called home.  
The depressive haze that settled on her remained throughout the week. Mechanically, she went through the motions of her life: rise, shower, work, home, sleep, repeat. In the afternoons she would try to read or write or occasionally cook, but in the end, she just laid in bed and stared at the ceiling, trying not to hope.

Part of her knew she deserved some of the blame for her malaise. She could have, in theory, sought out friends or…more to occupy her time, but while the latter was unthinkable the former just seemed pointless. Why make friends with people she would always have to lie to for the short time she was even in their lives at all, only to up and vanish one day without a word? It was unfair to her and unfair to them, so she just didn’t bother.

Her one escape came on her nights off mid-week, when instead of putting on a stupid uniform and serving drinks to shouting customers she put on her blackest clothes and ran across the rooftops of Mistral. She knew Qrow would hate it if he found out, but that only made it more fun. He had insisted that she wasn’t going to be sent on any assignments that required that particular skill set, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t come up with her own. Awful as things had ended in Vale, Blake had thrilled at the excitement of running and leaping and sneaking around unsuspecting guards again. She was loath to give up that pleasure, especially in the face of a routine so dull it probably qualified as a cure for insomnia.

So she ran the roofs, learning all of the places where she could change levels without the stairs (there were many), and finding the quietest and darkest routes between major landmarks. The whole time she pushed herself to move as fast as she could without making a sound, and always passed as close as possible to cops or bouncers or regular citizens of Mistral to ensure she was as silent as she believed herself to be. In the months since she had started, no one had so much as twitched an ear at her passing.

Tonight was no exception. But even after running herself hard enough that she had to spend several minutes gasping for breath back at her apartment, she still couldn’t shake the cloud hanging over her. The next day she rose and worked and returned home and slept as before. For all of her running and leaping, she had gone nowhere.

“Hey, what’s the latest?” Qrow asked when she showed up, precisely on time, for her report. She met him in the usual spot, a small bar two levels above her apartment.

“Nothing,” she muttered as she flopped down across from him in the booth in the back corner, waving off the bartender’s questioning look.

“You must have something.”

“Oh, this lady, I think she was a VP or something at a mining company, she got passed over for a promotion that she totally earned. Such a tragedy.”

Qrow frowned. “Fiona, I’m serious.”

“So am I, she was obviously qualified for the position,” Blake deadpanned. When she felt Qrow had glowered long enough she dropped her act. “Look, I’ve got nothing, all right? I go to work, I serve the drinks, I listen to people and their bullshit problems, and I smile and act sympathetic. No one was doing anything shady, at least not in my vicinity. ”

“Didn’t overhear anything from afar?”

“Other than my coworkers talking shit about me? No.”

Qrow nodded, swirling the ice around in his mostly empty tumbler. “Any sign of our friend Beringer?”

“He came in once, didn’t say anything useful or talk to anyone outside of the people he arrived with.”

“Any other interesting figures?”

“No one I recognized.”

“Ok. Want to stay for a drink?” he asked, waving his empty glass her way.

Blake shook her head. “No, I’m good. See you next week Qrow.”

“Yeah,” he said, watching her closely for a beat before looking back at his glass. “See ya.”

*** * * * ***

Yang woke with a start, thrashing at the restraints that turned out to be her tangled sheets. Finally free, she sat on the edge of the bed while her heart raced, shivering as the cold sweat adorning her skin swept away any trace of warmth from her body, releasing it into the still air of her quiet room. She got up, sighing in disgust and shedding clothes haphazardly as she walked across the hall to the shower. She cranked the temperature as high as it would go and stepped in, letting the scalding water and rising steam envelop her until the heat soaked into her chilled skin and eventually warmed what bones she had left.

She stayed like that as long as she could, only regretfully washing and dragging herself out when the water began to fade toward tepid. Despite the thick, warm steam filling the bathroom she shivered as soon as she stepped out, wrapping herself in a towel as she waited for the tremors to pass.

In time they did, and she returned to her room to root around in her still-packed bag for something to wear to the lab. She slipped on her usual jeans and t-shirt, but she looked down at the still-pink skin at the end of her right arm and hesitated. Ignoring the likely summer heat that awaited her, she grabbed her light zip-up hoody from the night before. She was already going to spend all day getting piteous glances, no need to encourage them.

The backpack she usually brought to work was right where she’d left it months before, perched on her small desk. She glanced inside and was pleased to see her notebooks and folders of reference papers were undisturbed, and more pleased to not see the remains of a months-old forgotten lunch rotting away. She zipped up the bag and slung it over her shoulder, pausing when she saw an unfamiliar article that had been sitting under it with a sticky note at the top. Plucking up the note she recognized Ruby’s handwriting immediately.

> _Saw this and thought of you! I figured it might be useful when you come back and get to work. If not, no big deal, but either way I figured you’d find it interesting!_
> 
> _Love,_  
>  _R_

She looked at the article, a piece from a medical journal on a new technique for imaging various tissue planes. Shrugging, she opened her bag and tossed the article in. If nothing else it would give her something to read over lunch. With that, she headed for the stairs and down toward the front door, finding herself increasingly eager to leave the eerily silent house.

She hurriedly stuffed her feet into her sneakers without untying them and was glad to see Ruby’s keys hanging on the hook by the door. She snatching them up and let herself out, only sparing Bumblebee one sad glance before climbing into her sister’s car. With the windows down letting in the warm morning air, the ride up the winding road was almost as invigorating as it would have been on her bike if, perhaps, lacking a sense of exhilarating freedom and the nearness of danger. Yang tried to push the thought aside; the desire for those things belonged to a different time, a different person. Her main mode of transportation was going to be a bit different going forward. As she pulled into the lot in front of her lab she realized she was going to have to consider what to get herself when Ruby returned and needed her car back. 

Given how unusually early she was, Yang found a spot easily. She picked her way across the lot, trying to stay focused on the dark pavement as flashing memories and wildly opposing emotions battled within her for supremacy. She started to sweat as she mounted the stairs. The summer sun bore down on her, hot despite still being but a quarter of the way through its daily traversal, making her regret her wardrobe choice by the time she approached the top. Next to the entrance was a familiar form leaning against the wall, her arms crossed and long rabbit ears drooping mightily. As Yang approached, she realized that Velvet was, improbably, asleep on her feet. As gently as she could, she reached out and shook her softly snoring coworker, steadying her when she nearly fell as she awoke.

“Yang?” she asked as she rubbed her eyes. “Is that you?”

“Hey V, yeah it’s me.”

“I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages,” she yawned, shielding her eyes from the glaring sun. “It’s been at least two, maybe three weeks.”

Yang laughed heartily at the spacey mathematician. “Closer to six months, but you weren’t technically wrong.”

“Huh, guess I’ve just been working too much since the fall of the tower,” she said, in awe of the passage of time as always. Yang was surprised that the loss of the tower had even registered with Velvet, but she supposed it must have impacted her research somehow. Her musings were interrupted when Velvet looked at her curiously. “Hey, didn’t you used to have two arms?”

This time Yang’s laugh nearly brought tears to her eyes and was so infectious that even the sleepy Velvet joined in, despite not being in on the joke. Yang drew her into a one-armed embrace.

“Yes,” she said as she released her. “I did. Thanks for being amazing. Never change,” she said as she wiped her face, still shaking with laughter. “I’ve gotta get to my lab, I’ll see you later!”

“Ok, bye Yang. And you’re welcome, I guess,” Velvet responded slowly as she watched her go.

Yang made her way through the lab, muscle memory carrying her along while her mind wandered. Most of the benches sat empty, the people who typically occupied them no doubt still home in bed, but one or two early birds were in attendance. Their greetings were warm and genuine. Each expressed how glad they were that she had returned, but their words were punctuated with furtive glances at her arm and a distinct lack of comments on it. Not that she wanted to retell her story to everyone she encountered, or at all for that matter, she just wished everyone would just be as direct as Velvet had been. It would have made her feel less like a glass sculpture that everyone was terrified would shatter at the slightest touch.

Rather than being stared at all day, she changed course for her office. It wasn’t her preferred place to work, but if it gave her some privacy she would make do. She was so preoccupied with getting there that she didn’t notice the telltale whirring of electric motors from the doorway ahead and only just managed to pull up short before running into Dr. Polendina and his quadrupedal chair.

“Yang! Good to see you!” he exclaimed, youthful delight drawn in every crease of his aged face. “Come in, come in!” he said, waving her back into his large office.

“Sorry, I don’t want to interrupt whatever you were doing,” Yang said, following him in.

“Nonsense, I was just going to take a spin around the lab, and that can wait,” he said, moving back behind his complicated and highly adjustable desk. Another custom design he came up with, it perfectly complimented his one-of-a-kind chair and still had the distinguished look of a traditional scholar’s desk. Yang tossed her bag in one of the two chairs for guests and sat in the other, happily noting that his eyes never left her face, and held no trace of pity. “I’m so glad you’re here,” he said, smiling warmly.

“Yeah, it’s…good to be back,” Yang said, struggling to encapsulate the tumult of emotions she truly felt.

Pietro nodded, and Yang felt like understanding there. “It’s going to take time to adjust, but when life gets hard, that’s when it’s more important than ever to have something to set your sights on.”

Yang shrugged, her eyes wandering around the neatly arranged bookcases on the walls. “I guess. I’m fine though. I think I just need to get back to work.” When he didn’t reply immediately she turned back to look at him, noticing his slight discomfort. “Professor, what is it?”

Sighing, he quit his fidgeting and met her gaze. “It’s about your funding.”

Yang’s eyes went wide. “My funding?”

“Now now, no need to panic. I managed to secure an extension on your existing grant, citing extenuating circumstances, so you’ll have a few more months to use the money you had remaining.”

“That wasn’t exactly a lot…” she murmured.

“I know,” he agreed. “But I have some ideas for others you can apply for, I’ll send those along to you later today.”

“But they’ll want to see some sort of progress, or at least a path forward-“

“Which I’m sure you’ll find, after all, you know what I always say…” he prompted.

“Necessity is the mother of invention,” she replied without thinking, having only heard him say it ten or twenty-thousand times.

“Right, and it seems to me you’ve got necessity in more ways than one,” he said gently.

Yang snorted derisively. “Not you too. I’m fine, my work is meant to help people who need it. I work with my mind, one hand isn’t that different than two for me.”

“And I don’t exactly need to be able to run around, yet here I am,” Pietro replied, his chair raising him up ever so slightly.

“Professor, I’m sorry…I didn’t mean-“

“Yang,” he said, his chair nimbly stepping around his desk so he could set his hand on her shoulder. “Denying the reality of what happened is not going to help you heal. You can say you’re fine all you want, but until you admit that something’s broken you can’t fix it, and you can’t help other people until you’ve helped yourself.”

“I guess…” Yang said, looking away from his maddeningly kind eyes.

“Think on it,” he said, “and apply for those grants. In the worst case, we’ll find budget to keep you going until you can get funding.”

Yang stood, shaking her head. “No, I couldn’t be a burden like that. I’ll figure this out, and I’ll find funding. I promise.”

“I know you will Yang, I know. Now go on, I’ve taken enough of your time as it is.”

Dr. Polendina’s words echoed in Yang’s mind as she shoved her way into her office, trying not to trip on scattered equipment as she did. She had almost forgotten about her control rig and found herself staring at it as she closed the door behind her. It was an ugly, slapdash contraption, but it had worked marvelously. Her mind cast, unbidden, back to that night, to the exhilaration and power of controlling the metal behemoths tethered to her signal, to running and jumping and fighting. To the last crazy ride across campus as she piloted one first-hand and the amazing and amazingly insane moment when she’d flown, launched to the third floor of a window by her own quickly calculated command. Sometimes, in the midst of her usually terrible dreams, she was granted a moment of reprieve in the form of a memory of that brief sensation of flight. Of the whistle of the wind in her ears, the blur of the ground below and the burning stars in the sky, of the sensation of balance between her upward momentum and the light tug of gravity. All of it combining into a moment of peace and harmony unlike she had known before or since, only for it to end so quickly, so brutally. As always, memory dovetailed into one of pure agony, and before she came fully back to herself Yang was already tearing the control unit to pieces, her hand and feet kicking and tearing while her breath came in grunts and snorts.

By the time she had regained any semblance of rational thought it was ruined, nothing but a pile of scrap metal and wires strewn across the minimal floor space. Yang dropped the mangled piece that was still dangling from her fingers and stepped gingerly over the wreckage toward her desk where she flopped miserably down in her dilapidated chair. For a while she simply stared at the wall, unable to fight the heavy torpor settling over her. She finally stirred when her scroll buzzed, taking it out and groaning when she saw the email from Dr. Polendina detailing all of the grants she would need to apply for. She was in no place to even consider dealing with that, so she tossed her scroll on her desk, sighing dramatically and picking it back up when it buzzed again. This time with a message from Pyrrha.

> _Hey! Saw Ruby’s car out front, so I’m assuming you’re here. You’re not hiding out in your office, are you?_

Yang smiled at how well Pyrrha knew her. Moping wasn’t going to help, so she stood up, grabbed her bag, and turned around to survey the damage, immediately opting to deal with it later. Instead, she carefully tiptoed through the debris and slipped out the door, closing it tightly behind her and wending her way through the hall toward the lab.

“Hey!” Pyrrha said, sitting up and flashing her infectious smile at Yang but cocking her head as she saw her face. “Are you ok?”

“What?” Yang asked, cursing her own laxity and schooling her features. “I’m fine. Just lost in thought. How are you?”

“A little hungover, if I’m being honest,” Pyrrha said, laughing softly but still probing her friend with her emerald eyes. “Are you sure you’re ok?”

“Totally fine, stop looking at me like that,” Yang said, rolling her eyes and dropping casually into a chair. “Though also a little hungover,” she conceded, happy for the excuse despite feeling completely fine.

Pyrrha chuckled. “I suppose we earned it.” She turned back to her computer. “So you going to keep working on that control setup you had going? It seemed like you were really steaming away at that, you know…before…” she stammered, suddenly awkward as she tried to gloss over the infamous night.

“Before my arm got blown off,” Yang added curtly, unable to deny her satisfaction at the flinch of discomfort it elicited but then immediately regretting it. “Sorry,” she amended.

“No, I’m sorry,” Pyrrha said. “I don’t want to insult you by treating you with kid gloves, I’m just still not sure how to talk about things.”

“I mean I’m fine not talking about it, but if we do, just don’t look at me like I’m broken, ok?”

“Deal,” Pyrrha said, relieved. “So…what are you going to work on?”

“Not the harness, that’s for sure,” Yang muttered. Looking up she added, “There’s been a setback there.”

Pyrrha looked at her as though hunting for the real meaning in her nonchalant words. “So…?”

“I’m not sure,” Yang admitted. “Mostly I’m just going to get back into the swing of things. I’m hoping with a fresh perspective I may be in a better place to tackle some of my issues with the interface.”

“That’s the spirit,” Pyrrha said. “I’m sure you’ll crack it.”

Yang smiled in what she hoped was a believable way, nodded her agreement, and began digging through her bag for her notes. The article Ruby had left her was still sitting on top, and she pulled it out to take a look. It seemed that a local biotech startup had created a novel technique for detecting different soft tissue boundaries, and they were looking to revolutionize medical imaging. One page was dominated by three images side-by-side, all of the inside of someone’s abdomen. In one, the major organs were all clearly visible, in the next, it was a web of blood vessels. Yang nearly dropped the page when she looked at the third and saw a perfectly detailed web of nerves.

She skimmed the rest of the article rapidly, grabbing a pen and circling the name of the company and their founder before setting it next to her computer and punching it into a search engine. When she had their number she stood up, dialing it rapidly as Pyrrha quizzically watched her step out into the hall.

Yang was greeted by the pleasant voice of a receptionist after the second ring. “You’ve reached NeoImaging, this is Magenta speaking, how may I direct your call?”

“I was wondering if I could speak with Dr. Gardener,” Yang said.

“Do you have an appointment?”

“No…not exactly.”

“I’m sorry, Dr. Gardener is very busy. If you’d like I can schedule something for you.”

“Uh, sure,” Yang said. “That would be great.”

“What company do you represent?”

“I…uh. I don’t. I’m an independent researcher who’d like to ask him a few questions.”

“Oh…” the receptionist said, obviously feeling her time was being wasted. “I’m sorry, Dr. Gardener doesn’t take cold calls. Perhaps you can find him at a conference or presentation in the near future.”

“I guess…when would that-?“

“Sorry, I don’t have his schedule readily available, have a nice day!”

“No, wait!” Yang said, but the line had already gone dead. Fighting the urge to crush her scroll in her hand she folded it and returned it to her pocket, then stomped back into the lab and shook off Pyrrha’s questioning look. It was going to be a long enough day without explaining every time she found a new way to fail. With a huff she threw herself back down, pulling out her notes and reviewing them, knowing that she would find no answers there.

The day passed in a useless haze. Yang got up to leave, manufacturing a vague excuse for not going over to Pyrrha’s place for dinner as she did. The truth was she just needed to be alone. She hadn’t anticipated how draining it was going to be passing a day surrounded by people after so much time away, but she was completely spent. It didn’t help that every third or fourth conversation she overheard was in some way related to the fall of the tower. It was hard to blame them. Even though so much of life had gone back to normal, that type of disruption had a way of invading every aspect of life. Oddly, it was the mundane effects that seemed to draw the most ire, with the loss of popular shows from Mistral being discussed far more than the need to send letters to family members in other kingdoms rather than calling or texting; possibly because one was easier than the other to complain about without inspiring an uncomfortable sense of dread. 

Much as she could commiserate, Yang didn’t even want to hear about that night, much less discuss its consequences, and she was exhausted by the effort needed to avoid it or block it out. All she wanted was to go home and bury her head under a pillow, maybe drink a beer or two and watch some bad TV. So when Pyrrha gently offered to have her over she deflected, and as soon as possible she made her escape, jumping in Ruby’s car and all but peeling out as she swung the wheel toward home.

The silence that enveloped her when she stepped into the empty house was a relief, and Yang let herself sink into its sumptuous embrace. She wandered through the house, idly ordering takeout and tossing her belongings aside with abandon. It didn’t exactly matter if she kept the place neat; no one would be around to judge her until Ruby returned, and she intended to make the most of her freedom. 

The urge to stay up unreasonably late was strong, but she managed to shake it off after only a few hours of aimlessly flipping through channels. She was going to have to stay disciplined now that she was back, or she was going to find herself out of grant money and very much out of options. That thought didn’t exactly fill her with hope, but it did inspire her to turn off the TV and trudge up to her room. She lay in bed for a while, her mind whirling with restless activity but making no actual progress. She sat up with a grunt of disgust and turned on her desk lamp, tired of feigning sleep when she knew it was still a ways off. Instead, she got up to retrieve her bag and pulled out her notes again, desperate to find something to work with. She unzipped the top and the article Ruby had sent her spilled out, and she looked at it in frustration. It had been a good lead, but she had botched it before it could go anywhere, as usual. She snatched the article off the ground and started to crumple it, halting suddenly when something caught her eye. The circled name of the founder was right below her thumb, and for some reason, it looked oddly familiar in a way that hadn’t registered earlier.

She set the wadded paper on her desk and wracked her brain, trying to trace the fragment of recognition. Her hand flew to her forehead as it hit her, and she scrambled for her duffle bag, still full from travel. Buried at the bottom was the binder with her mom’s notes and papers, and she soon prized it free. The pages ruffled through her fingers, and she stopped at the first of the publications. Summer was the first author, but right after her name was the one that was nagging at her now: “Viridius Gardener, Ph.D.”. She had poured over the binder in her months at home, and it was a wonder it had taken her so long to remember his name. Flipping ahead, she confirmed her suspicion. He was listed in the vast majority of the included works, and if she looked she knew she would find references to his contributions scattered through his mother’s notes.

Yang shook her head, smiling to herself. Summer always did have all the answers.

\--

Yang arrived outside NeoImaging first thing in the morning. When she had first pulled up in front of the anonymous office building, she had been worried that the address she found was wrong but upon closer inspection, she had found their logo on the directory board. After about an hour of trying not to look like the crazy stalker she was, she saw her target approaching.  
Dr. Gardener looked just like his picture from the company website: trim like a runner, or maybe a swimmer given his broad shoulders, a face that showed his years without looking old, and well-coiffed grey hair that fit the entrepreneur vibe his tailored shirt with its perfectly rolled sleeves and dark jeans established from a block away. As he power-walked toward the entrance Yang hesitated, and only found her voice just after he passed her.

“Dr. Gardener?” 

He turned in confusion. “Yes?”

“I was wondering if I could have a moment of your time-“

“I’m sorry,” he jumped in, obviously not in the mood for a sales pitch or a request for a job before his morning coffee. “You’ll have to talk to my assistant-“

“I’m Summer Rose’s daughter.”

Her claim stopped him mid-turn, and he looked back at her again. “You’re…her daughter?”

“I know, I look like my dad,” she offered.

His eyes went wide in recognition. “My word, of course! Tai, right? You are the spitting image of him. Please, come in!”

Yang accepted his offer, doing her best to ignore the realization on his eyes as she walked past and he noted her hanging sleeve. Fortunately, he had enough tact not to say anything, and Yang enjoyed the annoyed look on his secretary’s face as they swept past and he asked her to cancel his morning call before showing her to his office.

“What can I do for you…?”

“Yang,” she supplied.

“Yang, of course,” he said, leaning on the corner of his desk. “I’m sorry, it’s been so long.”

“Don’t worry about it, I would have been a toddler at the time,” she said.

He nodded his agreement, his eyes unfocusing briefly as he cast his mind back to recall his unexpected visitor. Coming back to the moment he stood back upright. “Where are my manners? Can I get you something? Water, coffee, tea…?”

“No, I’m fine, thank you,” Yang said quickly, waving off his offer. “Sorry for imposing like this, I hope I haven’t interrupted anything too important.”

“Nonsense, you’re not interrupting anything. I probably just had another call with a potential investor who wants total control of everything for an absolute pittance,” he said with a laugh.

“Please take a seat. What brings you in today?”

“Thanks,” Yang said, sitting on the edge of the indicated chair as he stepped around his desk and sat back in his own. “I…I wanted to talk to you about your device.”

“Oh?” he prompted.

“Yeah,” Yang said, fighting to maintain her focus. She felt so out of place, so guilty for imposing with her silly questions and stupid project and… No, she reminded herself, I have every right to be here. “I’m doing my Ph.D. at Beacon, and I think that your device might be useful in my work.”

“I’m listening,” he said.

As clearly as she could Yang outlined her project and the difficulties she was having, trying not to despair as she did so but rather pitch it as an opportunity for their collaboration. He listened intently as she spoke, his fingers steepled in front of his face. When she finished a look of recognition crossed his face. “Wasn’t there an article about this a while back?”

Yang was flabbergasted. “You read that? That was ages ago.”

“I did, I like to know when there are new up-and-comers about, and your project definitely caught my attention. Am I misremembering, or are you in Dr. Polendina’s lab?”

“Wow, good memory. Yes, I am,” Yang said.

“Working in the lab of the Pietro Polendina,” he said, beaming at her. “You really are Summer’s daughter.”

Yang couldn’t help but grin in response. For once she wasn’t even bothered that he was likely saying that without appreciating the full complexity of her parentage. It was just so nice to hear someone confirm that some part of the incredible woman she called mom lived within her.

“I wish I could help you,” he said.

Yang deflated, stammering as she tried to understand. “What…why…what do you mean?”

“We have several investors in the pipeline, and we need them to keep us afloat. They’re pushing us to abandon our basic research work to focus on commercial application and production. If I don’t commit to following their plan they’ll pull out, and we’ll be sunk.”

“Oh,” Yang said, looking around at the well-appointed office, realizing that it was a set-piece to convince skittish investors that all was well. “Yeah, I…understand.”

Dr. Gardener drummed his fingers on the desk for a moment, thinking. “You know, there might be a small way I can help.”

Yang sat forward. “Anything you can do would be appreciated.”

“When my lawyer drafted the patent for my device, I specified that I could license it out parts of it to any non-profit organization I saw fit, so long as they weren’t in direct competition with us. It’s not much, but I could get you a license and send the technical specs that would pertain to your work.”

“Are you serious? That would be amazing!” Yang exclaimed.

“I won’t be available to answer your questions, at least not on company time, so you’ll mostly be on your own, but it should give you someplace to start,” he said, standing.

“This is more than I had any right to hope for, thank you so much, Dr. Gardener,” Yang said as she rose to her feet, wanting to leave before she had a chance to wear out her welcome.

“Please, call me Vir, and it’s the least I can do,” he said, showing her to the door. Stopping suddenly he swung back into his office, digging through one of the cabinets off to the side of his desk. He gave a small sound of triumph as he fished out what looked like a large plastic donut the size of his head with wires protruding from it haphazardly. He walked to Yang and handed it to her after a moment’s hesitation. “I really shouldn’t give this to you, but it’s one of our earliest prototypes. I mostly keep it around for sentimental value. Together with the specs that I’ll send you, I imagine you’ll be able to reverse engineer it if need be. Needless to say, my investors would not be happy if they found out.” He nodded slowly, lost in memory again. “The truth is, I owe my entire career to your mother, and this is the least I can do to repay her.”

“Dr.—uh, Vir, I don’t know what to say.”

“Best not to say anything then,” he said, indicating she should tuck the device in her bag before she left. “Instead, thank me by using it to do great things.”

“I’ll do my best,” Yang said as she zipped her bag around her treasure.

“I know you will, how could you not?” His smile was bright and warm and genuine. “Summer would be very proud of you.”

“Thank you…I…thank you,” Yang said, clutching her bag to her chest. At a gentle nod from her benefactor, she headed for the door, smiling brightly at the scowling receptionist as she left.


	3. Frayed Nerves

Market day arrived again, bringing with it the small pleasures of the day itself along with the pain of knowing another week in Mistral had passed. Blake tried not to think about it too hard as she dressed, disguised herself, and left.

A few clouds streaked the sky, not enough to make the day grey or dreary but enough to offer an occasional respite from the searing sun in the summer sky. Blake blinked up at them, trying and failing to find meaningful forms amidst the puffy swirls. She soon gave up and settled her gaze back on the world around her.

Her gait took on a certain levity as she made her way to the fishmonger to complete their weekly ritual. Fish bought and paid for, solicitations for eloping considered, and a burst of laughter issued at his wife’s admonitions, Blake moved on, some small part of her feeling wonderfully full from the comfort of her routine.

Her feet carried her on through the market, stopping at various vendors so she could pick up the other odds and ends she needed to refill her cupboards. Once her basket was full, she sought out a seat in a promising looking location, made herself comfortable with a book and a steaming cup of tea despite the hot day. Then she settled in to hear what she could hear. 

She relaxed her mind, allowing the sounds around her to flow into her ears freely. Like a prospector in a stream she carefully sifted through the jumble of voices, isolating first one, then another, listening to tidbits of conversation before moving on when they proved boring. Eventually, she zeroed in on a man and a woman in the far corner. They were both primly dressed and looking around nervously as they spoke in urgent whispers. Even with her acute hearing, she was struggling to make out much, but the word vote was dropped several times, as well as something about someone’s daughter. 

Blake shuffled to the other side of the table, cocking her head as though trying to catch the best light for reading and hoping to hear more. Before she was able to pick up another word, a flash of gold from off to her right caught her eye. She turned her head, ever so slightly, and struggled to swallow a gasp as her heart began to pound. Someone at the corner table possessed a mass of wavy, blonde hair, but Blake couldn’t quite see her face. She risked turning her head, just a touch more, not wanting to give herself away, and tried to get a better look at the woman. She couldn’t quite see the color of her eyes, but something about her was familiar, and that voice...

Blake dropped her book, not caring one whit if it looked intentional or not as she bent to pick it up and took the opportunity to gaze at the woman directly. It wasn’t Yang, of course it wasn’t, she was half a world away. It was just a pretty blonde out on a date with a conventionally handsome man, both of them talking and laughing. She did bear a passing resemblance to Yang, and Blake knew the mind played tricks when it was denied something the heart desired, but it was more than that. The woman was in love; her face shone with it plain as the sun shone above, the warmth felt by everyone around even if they didn’t look directly. That’s what she had felt, that moment of recognition, and now all she felt was loss.

Blake hurriedly packed her things and left, no longer concerned with the whispers from the corner, not caring if she missed anything world-changing, she simply needed to get away. As she scurried through the crowd she felt the eyes of hundreds pass over her without registering her as more than an obstacle to step around. The presence of all those strangers only enhanced her sense of anonymity, of invisibility. There, amongst a crowd of thousands, Blake felt more alone than she ever had in her entire life. No one saw her, not really. Certainly, no one was about to look at her the way that young woman was gazing at her paramour in the cafe, as though he was the only thing in all of creation worth looking at.

The way Yang had once looked at Blake.

She sped up as she wound through the press of bodies, eventually approaching a run as she reached the stairs. Unable to stand the multitudes a moment longer, she fled to the manmade tunnel that led into the core of the mountain and toward the stairs that had been dug through solid rock. They were entirely deserted, as they always were on beautiful days, and after sprinting up the first flight Blake let herself fall apart on an empty landing.

She crouched in a dimly lit corner, hugging herself tightly, and tried to remind herself that it was all temporary. She would help take down Adam, the entire White Fang if necessary, then they would clear her name and be free to go back, free to find Yang and beg for forgiveness. Free to have a life. 

_What if she won’t have you?_

Blake shook the thought off. She knew Yang was mad, had every right to be, but she just had to get to her, state her case, plead, whatever it took. This wasn’t the time to think about how it might all go wrong. She just needed to complete the mission.

On her own if necessary.

Blake’s eyes snapped open and she climbed to her feet. The time for waiting was done. Rather than ascend the stairs to her apartment, she let gravity draw her down and down to the seedier part of the city, where merchants hawked supplies she would need for her budding plan.

If RLIC wouldn’t do what needed to be done, then she would.

*** * * * ***

The next few weeks passed in a nearly-contented blur of activity for Yang. She showed up early to the lab every day and often worked late into the evening, hampered somewhat by her missing hand but happy to see her left was becoming quite dexterous. When she wasn’t working she allowed herself to be dragged to various activities by Pyrrha. She didn’t mind the diversions, and it was important to show her friend that she was fine. If there were demons lurking in the corners of her mind waiting to unleash their fury as soon as her head hit the pillow, then so be it. That was no reason to worry anyone.

Her routine only faltered once, when Pyrrha threw her hands up in frustration over some obscure bug she couldn’t track down. “I can’t look at this anymore,” she lamented. “Want to go to the gym with me and blow off some steam?”

“Oh, uh…no, I’ll pass,” Yang said, looking back down at the circuit she was soldering.

“Sorry, I thought that maybe…I don’t know…it would be good for you,” Pyrrha mumbled.

Yang laughed, doing her best to add actual mirth to the sound. “Pyrrha, relax. I’m not going to let myself go. I’ve been running a bunch, doing calisthenics at the park and such. If you want we can have a push-up competition, bet I could beat you with one arm behind my back,” she quipped, throwing a ridiculous wink at her friend.

Pyrrha chuckled, the sound warm and bubbly in a way that Yang’s was not. “I’m not worried about you letting yourself go, you goon. I just thought it would be good for you to hit something. I know that always seemed to clear your head.”

“Yeah, it used to,” Yang said, looking away awkwardly. “But that’s just not me anymore, you know?”

“Yeah…ok, sure,” Pyrrha said as she gazed sadly at her friend. “Well, if you change your mind, you know where to find me.”

“I won’t, but thanks, and have a good workout.”

As Pyrrha left Yang turned back to her work, a distant longing filling her body, as though the name of a past lover had just been whispered in her ear. She shook the feeling off; that was the old her, the version of herself who couldn’t let go of something that had outlived its usefulness, that never could have seen the path forward. The one she was currently walking.

That wasn’t her, not anymore.

Later that day, Yang stared at her contraption with a mix of pride and fear. The device that Dr. Gardener had given her was rigged up on a stand and connected to a monitor. Tucked inside was one of Ren’s tiny cameras, also linked to the monitor, the two feeds displayed side-by-side. Just off to the side was her prototype arm, silvery and still, waiting for commands from the numerous leads extending from it in a barely organized tangle.

Yang took a deep breath, looking around the empty lab once more to confirm that everyone had gone home for the evening. Satisfied that she was alone, she took off her ever-present sweatshirt and slipped her right arm into the device, strapping it in place with two strong restraints. Satisfied that she was positioned correctly she turned on the scanner, thrilled when an otherworldly image of tendrils appeared on the screen, perfectly paralleling the external shot of her arm.

She reached for the first electrode, making note of the small ID tag she’d attached to it before reaching up to attach it. She gave herself a few seconds to orient with what she saw on the monitors, poking experimentally to ensure she was in the right place before carefully placing the lead on her skin. She took a deep breath and confirmed that it was in the right place, then reached over to her keyboard and punched in the command to start the connection while bracing for the jolt of pain that usually came with her attempts.

But none came. Slowly, she opened first one eye, then the other, verifying on her computer that the connection was up. The link showed green on a single lead, and nothing indicated it was mistaken, so Yang ventured a look at the arm. 

“Holy shit!” she exclaimed to the empty room.

The pinky finger was curled shut, notably different than the relaxed position of the other fingers. She imagined extending the digit, moving her left to help in her visualization, and marveled as her motion was mirrored by articulated steel. It was working! Yang shut down the link, feeling a slight pinprick as she did, and rushed to reach for more leads. Part of her wanted to hook up every connection she could, but she realized that might be getting a bit ahead of herself so she settled on just enough to bend all of the fingers. Her fleshy fingers shook with barely contained excitement as she placed the leads, using the images on her monitor to guide her and comparing them to her anatomy reference book and various notes that she had arranged across her workbench.

It took several careful minutes, but she was able to get the leads in what she was pretty confident were the right places. After spending another minute double-checking and psyching herself up, she started the link, gritting her teeth and swearing as the initial connection failed to be as painless as the first, but relaxing when the pain quickly subsided. She cast her eyes down and saw a mechanical mirror of her left hand, clenched from riding out the pain. Immediately her curses turned to laughter as she opened and closed the metal fingers. The motion wasn’t exactly fluid, and with no feedback, it wasn’t even remotely dexterous, but it was the first time in ages that her dream seemed possible.

“Fuck yeah!” Yang cried, throwing her left hand in the air and nearly forgetting that she was still strapped to the device. She remembered just in time to check her motion, but in her exuberance she had twisted her arm slightly in the restraints. The pain of connection returned. This time, however, it didn’t subside. Instead, it rapidly built into a raging conflagration of agony that tore up her arm and seemed to consume her entire body, the flames of pain erasing all semblance of thought. Instinct drove her to whip her left arm wildly about, mindlessly trying to dam the river of pain and succeeding only in knocking her computer out of reach. Her remaining sliver of consciousness knew then that she was in trouble, but she couldn’t focus enough to even consider finding a way out, and it didn’t help that someone was screaming bloody murder.

 _Oh_ , she realized, _that must be me._

Then the pain was beyond comprehension, and it seemed a moot point whether she was still making any noise at all. She was almost grateful when the edges of her vision started to blur, hoping that the coming void would spare her from the agony, not caring if she ever woke up, so long as she could be done with it all. But something wouldn’t let go, something was refusing her that sweet release, and that something was angry. Yang found she didn’t care anymore, the raging beast could do as it pleased, but she was done fighting.

Then the world went red.

Her scream morphed into a roar as she sought the source of this unending attack, intent on repaying it in kind. Her eyes were drawn to the offending wires dangling from her limb, some vestige of knowledge telling her that she had found her enemy. She reached out and tore at them, failing at first to dislodge more than a few, her efforts repaid only with another excruciating burst. But she refused to be denied. She ripped and clawed and battled her way free until she stood, panting, her nerves alight with the memory of the mind-rending signals they had so recently carried. The door banged open behind her and she wheeled around, still attached to what was left of the cursed contraption but ready to defend herself if necessary.

Pyrrha stopped dead, her face paling under Yang’s murderous gaze. Her eyes widened when they landed on the rig dangling from Yang’s arm. “Oh gods, what happened?! Are you ok?” she cried, racing over to unstrap her.

Yang watched Pyrrha cross the room in a few long strides, her head finally clearing enough for her to remember who she was, her eyes softening at the sight of her friend’s concern. “I’m ok,” she said quickly, accepting the fierce hug Pyrrha gave her once she was free of her prototype. “I’m ok, really.”

“You didn’t sound ok,” Pyrrha said, crying freely. “It sounded like you were dying.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” Yang said, patting her back. “I was trying out the new setup and things got a bit out of hand. I’m fine now though.” She leaned back, eager to change the subject. “What are you even doing here?”

“I forgot my external drive, I was just stopping to pick it up.”

Yang smiled. “Well, let’s grab it and head out, shall we?”

Pyrrha nodded, wiping her eyes as she grabbed the small device and gladly lacing her arm through the one Yang offered. Together they walked out into the fading late, met by a steady breeze that did much to clear Yang’s buzzing mind. “Sorry again for worrying you Pyrrha, and thanks for coming to my rescue.”

“I didn’t do anything, but if you really want to make it up to me you can never do that again,” she said, still sniffling as she did. “Ever.”

“I won’t, I promise,” Yang said. “I’m not sure what came over me, that was incredibly reckless. When I’m ready to test my next prototype, I won’t try it alone, you have my word.”

“Good. Though I guess I shouldn’t be surprised,” Pyrrha said, collecting herself enough to offer a rye smile. “Reckless is kind of your thing.”

Yang blinked, not recognizing the person who would draw such a comment. She shook her head. “Used to be my thing, not anymore.”

Pyrrha looked over at her, her open face as readable as ever and radiating doubt and concern, neither of which she voiced. “Ok,” was all she said, politely ignoring Yang’s obviously shaking arm linked through hers.

\--

Yang’s dreaming mind was a maelstrom. All of the usual terror and fear mixed with the fresh memory of raw, animal pain still echoing in her nerves to create a storm of chaos. The terrible kaleidoscope strobed through her mind, showing her images she wanted so badly to forget. Her only reprieve came in a moment of weightless flight. A moment when she got to feel powerful and free and whole before it all came crashing down and ended the way it always did: with a bone-white mask staring her down over the barrel of a gun.

Yang jerked awake, thrashing upright and looking around frantically before she remembered where she was. She flung the sweat-soaked sheets aside and got up, walking over to the window to gaze out at the ghostly trees behind the house, their forms outlined by the pale light of the moon. She looked up at the jagged orb, envying the pride with which it displayed its shattered face, and looked down at the brightly lit city visible at the base of the hill. It was clear that sleep was a hopeless pursuit, at least for the time being, so Yang grabbed her sneakers and threw on some running gear, taking the stairs two at a time and bursting out into the lingering warmth of the summer night.

Midnight runs had become somewhat regular in the months since her injury. She was well aware that her problems weren’t ones she could literally run from, but she could only spend so much time thrashing in bed and staring at the ceiling. At least if she exhausted herself she had a chance of sleeping again before the sun rose. Try as she might to do without, she did need some rest. There was only so much coffee one could consume, after all. So she ran.

She took off down her block at a clip that was only a few notches below a sprint, and before she even reached the grid-like streets of the city proper she had worked up a solid sweat. The downside of her running habit was that the more she indulged in it, the more effort was required to tire herself out, and given the intensity of her dreams of late, she had to be completely exhausted for the run to serve its purpose.

Eager to avoid doing anything stupid, Yang stuck to well-lit roads. Given the hour and the fact that it was midweek, they were still mostly deserted, but at least no one could sneak up on her. Then again, she figured they would be hard-pressed to catch her even if they did, moving as rapidly as she was. She continued like that for nearly an hour, pushing herself harder and harder, the wind in her ears and her gasping breath the only soundtrack she needed or wanted.

Eventually, her pace slowed and she looked around for a landmark, stopping dead in her tracks when she saw where she was. She swore under her breath at her traitorous legs for taking her to the one place she didn’t want to be, and she urged them to take her away with equal alacrity. She willed and wheedled and threatened, but they wouldn’t budge, and she was forced to stare up at the building where she had passed so much time with the one person she didn’t want to think about, the one person she didn’t want to admit she needed by her side as badly as she needed the air rushing in and out of her lungs.

She stared up at Blake’s apartment, unable to stop the bitter tears that had found their way into her eyes. She stood, a weeping statue, for some time, unable to tear her eyes away. Finally, she managed to drag herself into a grudging walk away from the unremarkable building that reeked of love and loss. Physical distance couldn’t block the memories racing through her mind and body, however, and soon she was awash in the smell of Blake’s hair and the touch of her skin, the way her lips felt as they kissed, often softly at first as though asking permission before pressing into Yang so firmly it felt as though the pair would cease to be separate beings.

Yang was snatched out of her reverie by the sharp report of footsteps behind her. She snapped her head around to face the sound, noting with a rising dread that other than the dark figure approaching, the block was perfectly silent and empty. Yang couldn’t see his face, but his height and lean frame were so familiar, and she swore she could see horns raking back over his head. All at once, images of Blake were shoved aside and replaced by Adam with his contemptuous sneer.

And his gun.

Yang took a reflexive step back, shivering as though she’d just been doused with a bucket of icy water. She tried to tell herself that it wasn’t possible, it wasn’t him, couldn’t be him, but the closer he drew the more sure she was. She screamed internally at her legs to move, but they were frozen in place, and she watched helplessly as he bore down on her. Deep inside, a monstrous voice offered to help, offered to finish the job it had failed at the first time. Burned to be released, to seek revenge, to make things right. She fought it down. That wasn’t her, not anymore.

Even if it was, she knew where that path led.

When he was just out of arm’s reach she took another step back, holding her hand out in front of her. “Stay back!” she shouted, her voice echoing thin and weak on the concrete around her.

The man stopped under a streetlight, his maskless face agape with confusion as he ran his hand through his mussed brown hair. “I’m sorry…?” he offered. “Are you ok?”

Yang stared, wide-eyed, while her mouth worked wordlessly. When she had finally accepted what her eyes were showing her, she turned and shot off down the block, not slowing down as she turned the corner at the end of the street. She sprinted the entire way back to her place, only allowing herself to stop moving when she was behind her locked and dead-bolted door. Once she was, she collapsed in a heap in the living room, panting from more than aerobic strain. A whirlwind of fear and rage and confusion raged within her, threatening to tear her apart. The worst part was the furious voice, a voice that she used to embrace as she stepped in the ring, mocking her for jumping at shadows, raging against her for keeping it caged.

 _Coward_ , it said. _Weakling_ , it growled. And on and on.

But that voice didn’t belong to Yang, not anymore, and she tried to ignore it as she lay gasping, begging to be left in peace, to be allowed to leave the past behind and become the person she was supposed to be. A person who had never stepped into a cage to fight, would never even do such a thing. A person who didn’t see violent phantoms lurking in every shadow because there was nothing in her past to haunt her. _That’s who I am_ , she insisted to the sinister, growling voice, trying to banish it. But the insistent string of insults and accusations wouldn’t cease. Eventually, it did fade and fall to a barely audible rumble, more felt than heard, though still enough to make it impossible for her to rest.

It was long after sunrise when she was finally picked herself up and staggered to the shower, not looking forward to the day to come.


	4. Business and Pleasure

“You’re late, Fiona.”

“I’m so sorry Mr. Vaccaro, it won’t happen again,” Blake insisted as she hustled through the door.

“You’re right, it won’t,” he said. “Mr. Beringer is here and he’s asking for you. If you don’t get him to spend a boatload of Lien tonight you’re on lunch shift for a week.”

Blake paused and looked at him. “Is there even a lunch shift-?”

“No! Now get in there!”

“Yessir!”

Blake threw on her server’s uniform and strode through the kitchen toward the doors to the main hall. She stopped just long enough to settle herself and paste an extra friendly smile on her face, then swept out into the dimly lit room, letting the music and boisterous conversation from the packed house wash over her.

As soon as she walked in, she was nearly knocked straight back through the doors behind her. Cardin, the asshole who was always harassing her, had appeared out of nowhere and blocked her path with his massive frame.

“I’m taking Beringer’s table tonight, you were late.”

Blake was already looking past him. “Sorry, not tonight. Maybe tomorrow,”

“I wasn’t asking.”

“Yeah, I caught that,” she said, moving around him confidently. “He’s all yours tomorrow.”

She was gone before he could protest, stepping in between servers and customers, knowing she had effectively vanished from his sight, only to reappear at the table in question, as if by magic. It was one of her favorite tricks, and she didn’t have time for his shit. Not tonight. Fear of Farrow would keep him quiet, though she did not doubt that he would seek revenge later. But that was a problem for future Blake. All that mattered now was the growing smile on her target’s face as she glided toward him.

“There you are! I was worried you weren’t on tonight,” Beringer called as Blake approached, adding more hip sway into her walk than she was typically wont to do. It did not go unnoticed.

“I almost didn’t come in, but the thought of leaving you here all alone was too much for me,” she said with a playful smirk, drawing a laugh from the men surrounding him but notably not from the woman on his arm. “What can I get for everyone?”

The men ordered despite the plentiful drinks already sprawled across the table, and Blake smiled and flirted her way down the line as they did. She was careful not to take it too far, just adding a little extra eye contact and a slight pout to her lips to punctuate her usual professional friendliness.

As the night wore on she allowed herself to get more familiar with them, specifically Mr. Beringer, resting her hand on his broad shoulders or letting their fingers touch as glasses were passed too and fro. Rather than shy away from his increasing boldness, she encouraged it. When Beringer’s date left in a huff, early and alone, Blake knew she’d won. All she had to do now was wait.

“Say doll, what time do you get off?”

When the question finally came up, Blake had to hide her smile as she played dumb. “Well…last call’s at one so I guess sometime after that,” she said, the picture of innocence. “Why?”

“I know a place around the bend that’s open late. Whatdya say we grab a drink?” he crooned, swaying lightly as he gazed at her, his intentions laid as bare as he obviously hoped she would be soon.

“I’m not supposed to drink with customers,” she chided, conspicuously not saying no.

“Well I won’t be a customer after the place is closed, will I?”

Blake laughed as though this was the pinnacle of wit. “I don’t know…but I suppose if you came around back after I was done I couldn’t stop you.”

While he took the bait hook, line, and sinker she smiled and sauntered off, casting a meaningful glance over her shoulder before she reached her next table. He was practically drooling when she caught his eye, and for the rest of her shift, she found it easier than usual to summon a cheery smile.

Part of what had taken Blake so long to arrive was retrieving the small package she had tucked in her purse, but the rest was the time she had taken to pick out the tight dress she pulled out of the bag in her locker when her shift was through. She stepped into the bathroom and slipped it on, holding her breath so she could manage to zip it up once she had. She caught sight of herself in the mirror and couldn’t help but laugh. The hair and eyes were wrong, but the skintight black minidress that left almost nothing to the imagination felt strangely right. It was a shame that she was wasting it on Beringer.

Yang would’ve loved it.

Blake shook her head, refocusing on the risky task at hand and applying just enough makeup to make it look like she hadn’t tried. Her change did not go unnoticed by her peers, however, and as she walked back through the staff room she drew a lot of attention, not least of which came from Cardin. Of course.

“Where you going dressed like that? Your other job?” he asked, leering down at her.

“Fuck off asshole, I don’t have time for your shit,” she said, not bothering to look up or break stride as she reached the exit and burst out into the warm night, letting the door slam behind her.

A moment later it slammed back open. “Hey! I wasn’t finished with you. What the fuck is your deal anyway, you faunus slut?” he called as he stomped out after her.

Blake turned, ready to rip him apart and still deciding if it would be with her words or her hands when she was stopped cold by his terrified look. It wasn’t fear of her though; it was of whoever she had been too angry to notice walking up behind her.

“This guy bothering you, doll?” Beringer asked.

Blake spun to face him, all smiles. “No, he and I were just horsing around, let’s get out of here.”

But he wasn’t listening, instead he looked up at Cardin, adjusting his fancy cuffs that hung down his unusually long arms, showing his hairy ape-like hands clearly. “Where I come from we don’t talk to ladies like that. Hey boys,” he called over his shoulder, summoning his men from where they had been lurking in the shadows. “Why don’t you have a conversation with this young gentleman about manners?”

The men walked forward, smiling and cracking their knuckles gleefully. “It’s really fine,” Blake said, her mind racing. “Besides, I might need him to cover for me sometime, if someone were to ask me on a proper date.”

Beringer looked at her for a moment, then shrugged. “Make sure he can still walk and hold drinks, boys.”

Then he led Blake away. She spared one guilty glance for Cardin as the men closed in on him, but there was nothing she could do now. Not without ruining her plan.

“I’m sorry you had to see that sweetheart,” he said as they walked. “But I just can’t stand his type.”

“I…yeah. Thanks,” Blake said, uncomfortable to find she meant it. “For sticking up for me.”

“Hey, of course! What kind of man would I be if I let him talk to you that way? Now come on, let’s go grab a drink and forget all about that chump.”

Blake spent the next few hours balancing on a knife’s edge. She had to keep him interested, but stay just aloof enough that he wouldn’t get bored or find her desperate. She also had to time her strike carefully: too early and she would blow it, too late and she might end up in a situation she was trying to avoid.

Fortunately, he seemed to have a pattern, no doubt practiced on countless women before her, and eventually, they found themselves in a small backroom at a bar that she happened to know was only a few blocks from his lavish home. After they ordered their drinks, Blake excused herself, slinking off to the restroom. Inside she unwrapped her small package, saying a small prayer that it would work as advertised while she mentally ran through the process of making the drink she had ordered. Right as the bartender should have finished she walked back out, intercepting the server as she reached for the glasses.

“I’ll take these,” Blake said helpfully, scooping up the glasses and walking away as the waitress smiled her thanks.

Before she was back in sight of the table she made her move, glancing around as she deftly balanced the glasses in one hand and removed and then replaced her little surprise in her purse. Satisfied she hadn’t been seen she walked back to their table, intentionally adding a little unsteadiness to her gait and giggling as she nearly spilled his drink while setting it down.

“Easy darling, you’re not on shift remember?” he said.

“I guess I just like being the one to give you what you want,” she said as she took a sip of her drink and slid into the booth next to him.

He leered at her over his own, drinking half it in one go as he no-doubt realized he would rather be elsewhere, and soon. The conversation devolved into blatant innuendo and the instant their glasses were empty he tossed enough Lien on the table to cover three times what they’d had and led her out into the street. No guessing or debating, this time he was leading her with purpose.

When they reached the gate to his home, Blake stopped and stared. “Wait,” she asked, feigning awe. “You live here?”

“Sure do, now come on,” he said, waving to the guard standing watch at the door before punching in a code on the keypad and letting them in.

The interior was lavish, all swirling marble and dark hardwood, paintings in gilt frames hanging from every wall. He drew her past a study full of far more books than Blake would have guessed he’d own. She idly wondered how many he’d read as they reached the stairs.

Clearly his patience was spent, and he grabbed her by the waist, pulling her in and kissing her deeply on the first landing. Blake fought her urge to pull away and went with it, only pushing him off when he reached for her zipper. “Not here,” she said, looking around with wide eyes.

“This whole place is mine, doll, but I suppose I can wait until we’ve reached the bedroom.”

“You must be a pretty big deal to have a place like this,” she said, mostly to keep him distracted as they climbed the two flights to the master bedroom.

He yawned broadly, responding as he did, “You have no idea, doll. I got big things in the works, big things.” He yawned again and, despite the obvious struggle he was undergoing to keep his eyes open, waved off her concerned look.

“What kind of big things?” she asked, finding herself genuinely curious.

“Huge. Things so big that faunus like you and me will finally have a chance to claim a piece of the pie,” he slurred, laughing to himself. “Or at least I will, and I might be inclined to share. Maybe.”

By the time they reached the bedroom Blake had stepped under his arm, supporting as much of his bulk as she could while she guided him to the bed. She deposited him gently on top of the covers, taking the time to swing his legs up and cursing her luck that he had passed out before he could divulge anything good.

She sat and watched him for a moment until his rhythmic breathing assured her that he was asleep. She patted his broad chest. “Sorry,” she murmured. “I actually had a surprisingly good night. Once upon a time, I may have been tempted to sleep with you.” She glanced around the room, then shook her head. “But I have other things to do.” With another light pat on his chest, she rose to her feet. “Also, my track record with criminals isn’t great.”

The small bottle in her purse had been advertised as a surefire way to put someone to sleep and keep them that way for a good twelve hours, so long as that someone didn’t mind waking up with a raging hangover. Blake sincerely hoped the timeframe was accurate as she turned off the lights in the room and slipped out into the hallway.

Greeted with silence, she removed her shoes and slipped down a flight of stairs, stopping to listen briefly before continuing to the ground floor. She padded swiftly down the hall and crept into his office, easing the door shut behind her.

The moonlight streaming in through the blinds was plenty for her to see by, and after a quick sweep of the room, she located the safe mounted in the wall behind the desk. One look told her what she already suspected: he used the same model as his subordinates, a simple but strong combination lock. It would take a tank to blow it open, or a really good set of ears and a familiarity with that particular lock to crack it.

Short one tank, Blake decided to make do with the latter.

Resting her forehead against the cool metal of the front panel she began spinning the dial slowly, creeping it along and listening as each number rotated by. Twice she hesitated, wondering if she had passed it, but she continued until a satisfying click resounded in her ears. Reversing the spin, she continued her search, agonizing over each tiny movement of her fingers until she finally landed on the second digit. Stilling her breath and willing her heart to slow, she focused all of her attention on the mechanism. Searching…searching.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” came an urgent whisper.

Only years of discipline prevented Blake from screaming as she spun and stood from her crouch to find a familiar figure looming over her. “Qrow?!” she whispered. “What are you doing here?”

“Trying to stop you from doing something monumentally stupid, like getting yourself killed. That safe has a silent alarm built into it.”

“It…wait, how do you know that?” she challenged, narrowing her eyes.

“This is neither the place nor the time. You need to leave, now. Out the front door. The guard needs to see you go. I’ll meet you outside,” he hissed, backing out of the room. “And don’t even think about trying to ditch me.”

Then he was gone. Blake strained to listen and was impressed that she could only just make out his footsteps as he jogged down the hall. At least that explained how he was able to get the drop on her while she had been distracted. Better him than a guard.

Blake skulked to the front entrance, struggling back into her heels and doing her best to look drunk and disappointed. It helped that she was definitively one of those things.

“Have a good night?” the guard inquired with a smirk as she stepped out the front door.

“Not bad,” she said, sighing dramatically. “Just wish it had lasted a little longer.” The guard laughed as she threw him a saucy wink before she wandered off into the shadows like she was contemplating where to go next.

After a few blocks she started to hear footsteps, and as she turned to greet him Qrow swept up and grabbed her arm, firmly if not roughly. “Your place, now, don’t speak,” was all he said before peeling off and falling back. Blake shook her head at the unnecessary precaution, deciding it was more likely a punishment, and took her time walking back to her place. She refused to admit defeat so easily. More than once she heard him cough his displeasure, but she chose not to notice.

Much as she was tempted to, she didn’t take the longest route she knew, and eventually, she arrived at her front door. Qrow stepped up beside her as she turned the key, but other than not slamming the door in his face she refused to acknowledge him as they entered. She turned on the lights, mostly for his benefit, and tossed her purse on the counter as she took off her shoes. Finally, she turned to face him, preparing herself for his rage.

“Well?” she prompted.

“You can save the whole defiant routine, I’m not really in the mood to yell,” he grumbled. At first, Blake suspected a trap, but when she looked closer she saw that he mostly just looked tired.

“I…”

“I’m also not in the mood for excuses. What did I say?”

“That I should go on a date,” Blake responded, almost more afraid of his exhaustion and hoping to stoke his anger.

For a moment it appeared to work, but just as quickly he sighed and relaxed his tense jaw, closing his eyes. “Please, not tonight. I told you to stop going off on your own. What you did tonight? Getting yourself killed would have only been the first step.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I don’t owe you an explanation. Not after this stunt.”

“Please.”

Qrow glared wearily at her for a moment, then reached into his shirt and pulled out his flask to take a draw. “We have an operative on the inside, working for Beringer, have for a while.”

“Then why the fuck do you need me watching him at the club?” Blake demanded.

“First of all, you’re not just there to listen to him,” he ticked off on his fingers. “Second, this operative can’t be everywhere at all times. Third, Beringer seems to have a habit of running his mouth around pretty women when he’s drunk. Did you at least get any useful intel out of him tonight?”

“I…no,” Blake admitted.

“Perfect, well done.”

But Blake wouldn’t be brought to heel so easily. “It would be a lot easier to work with you if you would just tell me the plan! What’s the operative even doing in there anyway? Seems like a fat lot of nothing.”

Qrow scoffed. “They’re risking their life is what they’re doing, that and following orders, which is more than I can say for you.”

“Well sorry for not being a good little soldier. You still haven’t answered my question,” Blake shot back, crossing her arms and trying to look down at him despite being several inches shorter.

“These things take time, we’re working out a way to deal with the silent alarm, and now that we have those notebooks you…liberated, we’re hoping to have a better idea of what we might find and what will be most valuable in there.”

“That’s it?”

“Sorry we aren’t moving fast enough for master thief Blake Belladonna, but yes, that’s it,” Qrow said, taking another hit from his flask as he started to pace. “And don’t change the subject, this is about your insubordination.”

“Do I actually even work for you? It seems more like I’m a waitress who occasionally tattles on my customers.”

“You work for me, don’t forget that. I assumed we had an understanding, but obviously I was mistaken. We’re both lucky I decided to tail you tonight.”

“You what?!”

“What? Thought you were too slick to be followed?” he said, stopping to jab an accusatory finger her way. “You were so busy flirting all night I could have reached out and tapped you on the shoulder a few times and you never knew.”

“I still got further than your agent has in a single night,” Blake snapped, mad she’d been bested but refusing to give so easily. “Those notebooks that are so useful? My work.”

“You still being alive? My work,” Qrow retorted. “I’m done playing games.”

“Oh, didn’t know we were.”

“Well, that’s another thing you learned tonight then,” he said, tucking away his flask. “From now on, you check in every time you go anywhere. Specifically, work and back home, since those are the only places you’ll be going.”

“What?! You can’t ground me, I’m not a child.”

“You’re right,” he conceded. “You can also go to the store once a week. If you pick up something good for dinner let me know, I’ll stop by,” he said, rolling his eyes. “I need to report all of this to the Director.”

Obviously considering the matter closed he turned to leave, stopping when she reached out and grabbed his wrist. “Qrow, I…I have to stop him,” she said, staring hard into his crimson eyes. “Adam, I mean,” she clarified. “I have to get my life back.”

“And that’s the problem, Blake,” Qrow said, his tone disturbingly soft. “You’re so focused on your own needs that you seem to have missed the fact that the world is falling apart all around you. I’m sorry for your whole…situation. I am. Gods know I am. I can sympathize; it might shock you to know that I have problems of my own.” He paused, seemingly about to tell her something before changing course. “But we both have bigger concerns, and you can either help or not, but don’t make things worse.”

With that he shook her hand off, covering the distance to her door in a few long strides and leaving without so much as a glance back.


	5. As the Qrow Flies

The entire day after Yang’s run, and subsequent sleepless night, was torture. Every atom in her body was vibrating with exhaustion and caffeine, leaving her caught in the foggy space between sleep and wakefulness. Even in her few moments of lucidity, she was aware only of reminders of her failure. The test rig was still where she had left it, and the first thing she’d done upon her early arrival was clean up the components strewn about during her flailing escape from her disastrous experiment. She took the time to meticulously rearrange them on her bench, then found herself completely at a loss. Looking at the rig sent shivers down her spine; she couldn’t even conceive of actually using it again. Instead, she stared at it miserably through most of the day, trying and failing to come up with an answer that didn’t include starting from square one, again.

Pyrrha must have come and gone at some point, but Yang was in too much of a haze to really acknowledge anyone. Then she blinked and saw that she had arrived back home. Allegedly, she drove herself, despite possessing no memory of doing so. She knew she should have been concerned by that, but she was so far beyond exhausted at that point that all she could do was go inside and pass out, hoping that a good night’s sleep would bring her the answers she needed.

It didn’t.

She was fresh as a daisy, relatively speaking, when she entered the lab the next morning, yet the harness looked every bit as much like a dead-end as it had the day before. It was almost too much to bear. Despite the incredible help from Dr. Gardener, despite her renewed dedication to becoming the scientist and engineer she wanted to be, despite leaving behind the things that were holding her back, Yang was no better off than she had been before. None of it mattered. She’d made no progress. Nothing, zilch, nada-

“Hey Yang,” Pyrrha said as she came in. “Feeling better today?”

“What? Oh…yeah,” Yang said vaguely, still looking at her latest failure.

Pyrrha shook her head, guessing immediately where Yang’s thoughts were. “Hang in there. I’m sure that was really terrible, but you’ll figure out a way to fix it.”

“I don’t know,” Yang admitted with a sigh. “I may be all out of good ideas.”

“Don’t say that! You can’t give up now, not when you’re so close!”

“Why? Maybe that’s who I am,” Yang said quietly.

Pyrrha shook her head. “That’s not who you are.”

“How do you know?”

“I just know.”

Yang stared at her friend, trying to understand her quiet confidence, wishing she felt a fraction of it within herself. Before she could say more, other members of the lab trickled in and she turned quietly back to her bench. She spent the next few hours idly adjusting things that didn’t need to be adjusted, and eventually decided to call it a day and start her weekend early. Pyrrha reminded her she was welcome to come hang out any time, but Yang demurred, saying she had to clean the apartment in anticipation of Ruby’s return in the coming week.

The truth was she just wanted to be alone for one more weekend. She was excited that Ruby was coming back, of course, but she was also apprehensive. They hadn’t exactly cleared the air by the time Yang had departed, and they hadn’t spoken since. She wanted more than anything to fix things between them, but that was going to require more emotional energy than she had available at present.

Walking through the front door did little to lift her spirits. She had enjoyed her freedom over the past few weeks perhaps a bit too liberally; the apartment was thoroughly trashed. Takeout boxes completely obscured the coffee table while clothes and towels and books lay strewn about as though a highly literate and questionably fashionable tornado had torn through.

She had only just started to kick her shoes off when someone knocked loudly on the door behind her. Yang froze at the unexpected sound, then leaned cautiously to peek out the window. There, parked in the drive behind Ruby’s old beater, was a conspicuously unadorned black car. It was so anonymous that it stood out like a flare, but Yang had never seen it before. Taking a steadying breath she turned and opened the door, finding a clean-cut man in a suit as nondescript as the car in which he had arrived.

“Can I help you?” she asked, cocking an eyebrow at the man, and closing the door a hair, hoping he couldn’t see the trash heap behind her.

“Are you Ms. Xiao Long?” he asked, his tone lacking inflection to such a perfect degree that it sounded rehearsed.

“Yeah…who are you?” she challenged.

“I’m afraid you don’t need to know that. All you need to know is that Qrow Branwen sent me.”

That got Yang’s attention. “What? Why?”

“We work for the same…company,” he said, finally showing a hint of humanity as he danced around a word that Yang suspected was closer to agency.

“My uncle is a business consultant. You don’t look like much like a business consultant,” she snarked.

The man shifted uncomfortably. “Ms. Xiao Long, may I come in?”

“No,” Yang snapped. “I don’t know you, why would I let you into my home?”

The man considered this, seemed prepared to argue, then chose not to. “Fine. I cannot tell you who your uncle works for, but he is not a consultant, as his message will make clear. Under normal circumstances, I could be fired or…worse for even saying that much, but these are not normal circumstances, and I owe your uncle a great deal. He has asked me to deliver this message, and then await your reply.” When he finished he held up a blank envelope sealed with a strange symbol on green wax.

Yang reached out hesitantly and took it, not breaking eye contact with the odd man as she did. Finally, she was forced to look down to break the seal and open it, pulling out a folded sheet of paper made of stock so heavy it almost felt like a greeting card. Inside was a typed letter.

> _Hey Firecracker,_
> 
> _I’m not really sure where to start, so I guess I’ll just start at the beginning. I’m not really a consultant, though you probably figured that out by now. I can’t tell you exactly what I am, but let’s just say my line of work involves me knowing a lot about, well, a lot. I know what really happened at Beacon Tower, including your part in it, and I even know what you were getting up to beforehand in all sorts of abandoned buildings. Can’t say I’m thrilled, but your hobby may come in handy._

Yang looked up in shock seeing her secret in black and white like that, but the man was simply staring at her impassively, so she went back to her uncle’s letter.

> _I also know that Ruby was in western Anima this summer. If I had heard ahead of time she was thinking of heading there I would have dissuaded her, but I only found out after she’d arrived. The best I could do was ask one of my colleagues in the area to keep an eye on her. We aren’t supposed to use official resources for personal means, but when you’ve been around as long as me you know which rules to bend and which to break, and I’m glad I did._
> 
> _I just received a report from him. He got word of a disturbance at Shion and soon after heard that the doctors from Vale had gone to help. When he arrived the villagers claimed everything was fine, but the medical group and all of their supplies were gone. The villagers wouldn’t say where they went or why they left, but everyone seemed really nervous. According to him, there were no obvious trails, but the only direction they reasonably could have been heading was east, toward Mistral. With Beacon Tower down he had to get the message to me through side channels, so by the time I heard the news it was a few days old. By the time I route this message to you about a week will have passed._
> 
> _I notified the Mistral council, but they dismissed the report as unverified and refuse to act, and asking Vale to send a search force is out of the question. I’m hoping to go find her myself, but things are getting complicated, and that looks less likely every day. In case I can’t, I’m going to ask something really unfair of you: please go after your sister. I know you’re hurt, I’m sure you’re still struggling to come to terms with what happened to you, but if half of what I heard about you is true, you’re more than capable of bringing her home safe. If you say yes, the agent who delivered the note will give instructions on where to go, but it’s your choice kiddo. If you can’t, if I’m asking too much, he’ll move on to the next best option._
> 
> _I’m sorry Yang, I truly am. I’ve done a lot that I’m not proud of, but this might top the list. Then again, I thought you’d want to know if your sister was in danger. Now you know._
> 
> _Qrow_

Yang gaped at the letter, it had to be a joke, but the man across from her didn’t look like much of a prankster, and the style of writing definitely sounded like Qrow. “I…what…?” she stammered, unable to verbalize her storm of questions. “How do I know this is real, and not some sick joke?“ she finally demanded. Rather than respond, the man reached into his jacket and produced a small rectangle of plastic. Yang looked at it and gasped, choking back the tears that rushed to her eyes when she saw Ruby’s face on her familiar school ID. “Fuck,” she muttered. “Fucking...fuck.” Looking the man up and down again she shook her head. “I don’t get it. If you guys are some super-secret organization, why are you turning to me?”

“Ma’am, I can’t-“

“Can’t tell me that, yeah, I figured,” Yang snapped. “What can you tell me?”

The agent looked around, chewing this over. “Have you watched the news lately?” he asked finally.

“Yeah, what of it?” she said, not in the mood for guessing games.

“Things are getting tense in every kingdom, but especially Mistral,” he said, keeping his voice low.

“Yeah, obviously, people are fucking disappearing!”

“Ma’am, please,” he said. When Yang calmed slightly he went on, “Members of various organizations, our own included, are being told to leave. Any remaining…employees will be seen as an act of aggression. Are you following?”

Yang took a half step back. “Is there going to be a war?”

“No one said that,” the man replied, too quickly. “But, we need to be careful. Even doing this much is a huge risk on your uncle’s part. If I go, the repercussions could be dire, and not just for me.”

“So instead you’re asking a one-armed civilian to handle it? Are you insane?!” she hissed.

“I’m only delivering a message, ma’am.”

“So I’m supposed to, what? Get on the next airship to Mistral?”

The agent pressed his lips together. “If we had gotten this letter a few days ago? Yes. Unfortunately, travel to Mistral is about to be curtailed, if not entirely cut off.”

Yang stared at him but tried not to think of the larger implications in the face of her more immediate concern. “Are you serious?! How am I even supposed to get there if they close the borders?”

“We can secure passage for you on a cargo ship that leaves two weeks from now.”

“So I’m supposed to go track my sister’s three-week-old trail?”

“It’s the best we can do.”

“And what if I can’t do it? What if I say no?”

“Then I will follow your uncle’s contingency plan.”

“Which is…?”

The man shook his head slightly. “He did not tell me to inform you of his-“

“This whole thing is fucked! Stop following protocol and tell me the goddam plan!” Yang interrupted, looking at the awful letter again and wishing it was her uncle standing before her so she could scream at the person who deserved it.

“I’m to go to Patch and deliver a similar letter to Mr. Taiyang Xiao Long-“

“My dad?!” she cried.

“Yes,” he replied.

This set Yang back on her heels. Her father was a big, hearty man. Capable of felling a tree and mending fences and digging wells. He was strong, knew his way around the wilderness. But he was a giant softy. Yang had never known him to practice any form of martial art, and she heard from Ruby that every time he went to one of her tournaments growing up he could barely watch as she traded blows with her opponents. Moreover, she struggled to even think of a time he had left Patch other than for their graduation ceremony. He would absolutely go after his daughter, but would he be able to do what needed to be done to get her back?

Who was Yang kidding, could she?

Even if she had been in fighting form, she wasn’t a soldier, or a spy, or whatever her uncle apparently was. And she was far from her best. She was the wrong one, Qrow had made a mistake, she wasn’t the person he was looking for.

But Ruby needed her.

“Fuck!” she spat, startling the man as he waited patiently for her to decide. “Do I need to tell you right now?”

“Time really is of the essence, if you cannot do this I need to deliver the other message-“

“When would you leave?” she asked.

He looked at her, some bit of his remorse at bearing such news sneaking through his otherwise neutral expression. “I suppose I wouldn’t want to show up at your father’s house in the middle of the night. The first airship to Patch leaves at noon tomorrow. I will need your answer by then.”

“Fine,” Yang said. “I guess that’s the best I can ask for. How will I reach you?”

The man reached into his jacket, producing a small white business card with nothing on it except a number. “That number will reach my scroll for the next 24 hours. Text me your decision,” he said. He began to hold it out, then after a moment’s thought, slipped Ruby’s ID under it, extending both to Yang.

She awkwardly tucked the letter under her right arm and reached out to accept both, hoping he didn’t notice the slight tremor in her hand as she did. “I will, thank you.”

The man nodded, turning to leave and then pausing. “I’m sorry ma’am, I wish I didn’t have to deliver such awful news.” With that, he strode to his car and drove off, leaving Yang standing in the doorway as she watched him go.

“You and me both, pal,” she muttered at his receding taillights.

*** * * * ***

Fitfully would be a fair description of how Blake wished she had slept. She languished in bed until late into the morning, and when she finally lifted herself from the mattress she somehow felt worse for the brief lapse into sleep she’d managed amidst the hours of tossing and turning. If she had been hoping that the time in bed would soothe her anger over the events of the night before, she was disappointed. Instead, she found her passions inflamed given time to stew. Some small part of her worried that Qrow was right, but she buried that. She wasn’t a soldier, hadn’t signed up for whatever her current life had become. She had turned herself in to protect Yang. She had agreed to help capture Adam in exchange for her freedom. Everything else was a distraction, everyone who slowed her down a hindrance.

She looked toward her door, considered testing Qrow’s command, but the grey light bouncing into her window didn’t seem overly inviting, and she had a shift in a few hours anyway. With a grumpy huff, she threw herself onto her rickety chair and plopped her laptop on her flimsy table. She soon found herself traveling down familiar rabbit holes, trying to sift through otherwise meaningless chatter toward something that would point to Adam’s next move. She was sure that Beringer’s files would hold something that could lead her right to him, but even in her current mood that was blatantly off-limits. She shoved that dead-end out of her mind and spent a few fruitless hours trawling through the cesspools in the dark corners of the web. Some small part of her was bothered by the utter lack of anything coming out of Vale, but she blocked that out as well.

The day passed, somehow, and soon she was rubbing her burning eyes, cursing vividly at the wasted hours, and getting up to dress. Before leaving she sent the most spiteful update she could manage to Qrow, nearly spitting with rage when he simply replied:

> _k_

Mr. Beringer wasn’t in attendance that evening, likely still sporting the mother of all hangovers, and neither was Cardin. While the first came as a relief, the second gave Blake pause. None of the other servers knew where he was, but on more than one occasion whispers seemed to cut off as Blake passed, the now silent coworkers staring daggers at her until she moved on. Other than that, the shift passed without incident, until she was preparing to leave and Farrow pulled her aside.

“Word is, Mr. Beringer had a rough night last night. Still having trouble getting out of bed. Know anything about that?” he asked pointedly.

“No, I-“

“And I just learned that one of my servers is in the hospital with multiple broken bones. How about that?”

Blake sprinkled some shock in with her very real horror. “What?!”

Farrow regarded her silently, searching for an answer in her false-blue eyes. “Take the rest of the week off.”

“But-“

“Do it. We’ll see how I feel about next week when we get there.”

Blake hung her head, knowing a lost cause when she saw one, and walked out through the deafening silence of the staffroom. From there she went straight home, telling herself the whole way it was because she was tired, not because she was doing as she was told.

The next few days crawled by, the passage of time marked by nothing other than the slight change in illumination of the wall outside her window. Telling Qrow she had been given the week off wasn’t met with much of a response, but what little he gave was a mixture of smug and angry.

She spent her empty hours digging through every flimsy trail she could find on the net, but by the end of the week, she was exactly no closer to discovering anything meaningful. In fact, the only thing she had learned was that her living room was precisely eight paces wide. It was also sixteen and a half from the window to the hallway door. One time she had attempted to leave, just to see what would happen. That had ended before it could start. The second she stepped foot outside her front door her scroll buzzed. It was Qrow, of course.

> _don’t_

She sent several replies, employing her most creative insults and receiving absolutely nothing in return. She nearly ground her teeth to dust as she turned back into the room and slammed the door, rattling the frame and no doubt alarming anyone within a few blocks and finding she cared not at all.

At some point, without really meaning to, she began rehearsing various declarations to give to Qrow at her weekly update. There were several variations, but they all boiled down to the same thing: she couldn’t go on like this. She had to either be brought into the loop or cut out. Either way, she wouldn’t tolerate living in limbo a second longer. Right as she was reaching the climax of her simulated argument, the whole thing sounding magnificent and convincing in her mind, her scroll buzzed, cutting her off. Somewhere between rage and curiosity, she pulled it out.

> **Qrow**
> 
> _Are you at home?_

She rolled her eyes.

> _Of course, where else would I be?_

She waited, his message taking a while to come through.

> _Stay there, I’m coming to you._
> 
> _Why? Can’t it wait until tomorrow?_
> 
> _For the love of the Brothers, do you live under a rock? I’ll be there soon._

Blake stared at her scroll, confusion turning to worry and embarrassment as she realized she hadn’t read anything that wasn’t part of her search for White Fang activity in days. Hesitantly she tapped in the address for the local news on her scroll, and the first headline clarified a great deal.

**Mistral Council pulls out of the Vytal Treaty, Refuses to Live in the Shadow of Atlas.**

Blake’s hand flew to her mouth. They were breaking the Vytal Treaty? For eighty years it had governed the unprecedented peace that existed between kingdoms following the Great War, and they were breaking it. She rapidly skimmed the article, picking up that unrest throughout the kingdom and popular opinion had emboldened the council, especially those members that had long complained about various aspects of the treaty. It didn’t take much for her to put the pieces together after that. The fall of Beacon Tower had been the catalyst they needed, causing further fear and panic while giving them two perfect scapegoats: terrorists coming by way of Vale and the frightening death machines produced by Atlas. Since Vale was largely a non-factor in global politics the bulk of their ire was aimed at the still-powerful Atlas, particularly over their possession of a coveted foothold on the northern tip of Anima in the form of the Argus Military Base. 

Something about it still didn’t feel right though. It was true that the Mistral council had always agitated for rewriting the treaty, but to break it? It was rash and potentially catastrophic for the kingdom, and even the loudest council members were known to be cautious and slow-moving on matters this large. Something else must be at play, but what? Had she really had been so focused on her own battle that she missed something this big? She had assumed that everything hinged on Adam’s next move, but the world had continued to turn on its own.

That horrible realization brought with it another: RLIC was chartered in the Vytal Treaty. Before that thought could travel to its logical conclusion, a frantic knock sounded at her door and Blake rushed to let Qrow in. Looking over each shoulder he charged in, stumbling slightly. Blake double-checked that he wasn’t being followed, then closed and dead-bolted her door.

“What’s going on?” she demanded when she turned around. Then, “Are you bleeding?!”

Qrow nodded grimly, his hand pressed to his side. “I’m fine, it’s just a graze.”

“We need to get you to a hospital-“

“No! You need to listen-“

“But-“

“Blake, please,” he said, something in his exhausted tone quelling her arguments. “I’m assuming you finally saw the headline?” She nodded. “Good, then you have an idea of how fucked things are. War is coming. It’s not here yet, but it’s coming.”

“What are we going to do?” she asked numbly.

“We? We aren’t going to do anything. When they broke the treaty the Council gave all RLIC agents twenty-four hours to leave Anima. After about four they ‘accidentally’ leaked our names and addresses to some unsavory characters. I need to get out of here, soon.” Looking down at his bloody hand he replaced it on his side. “Real soon.”

“What about me?” Blake asked, “Why hasn’t anyone attacked me yet?”

Qrow laughed mirthlessly. “Turns out old Oz likes to play some gambits close to the chest. He has to share the list of all of us living here under our real names and a handful of undercover agents. The Council would get suspicious otherwise. But he seemed to have forgotten to list a handful, including you.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying you have a choice. You can run, now. Get as far from Mistral as you can. You won’t have RLIC protection, but word is you’re pretty good at hiding,” he said, grunting as he lowered himself onto her only chair. “I hear Menagerie is beautiful this time of year.”

“It’s beautiful every time of year,” Blake corrected, glad to see his smirk at her reflexive response. “What’s the other choice?”

“Stay, go underground, meet up with the other agents who escaped this…purge. Fix this mess if you can. If not…well I guess hope you can still run,” he said, reaching for his flask and sighing when a shake proved it was empty. “I’m sorry, that’s the best I have to offer you.”

“What about you?” Blake pressed, fetching him water.

Qrow curled his lip at the glass but accepted it with thanks. “I’ll be fine. I have some business left in Anima, but after that, I’ll clear out.”

“Anything I can help with?”

Qrow hesitated, but eventually just shook his head. “Did you pack a go-bag like I told you to when you first got here?”

“Yeah, I’ll get it.”

“Make sure anything you can’t live without is in there, this place will eventually be traced back to the League, consider it compromised.”

Blake nodded as she returned with her small backpack full of supplies. “What do I do next?” she asked.

“That depends, you running or staying?”

“I…I don’t know,” she admitted.

Qrow nodded, not trying to persuade her one way or the other as he reached into a small shoulder bag he had hidden under his shirt and produced the three small notebooks Blake had stolen. “Regardless of what you decide, deliver these to the remaining agents. Please,” he said, reaching into his pocket for a small slip of paper. “Here’s the address for the emergency fallback point. Knock once, and when asked for a password say, ‘harbinger’. Tell them I sent you.”

“Qrow-“

“Tell me later, we’ve taken too long already. Do you have a way out of here other than the front door?”

“Yes, I-“

“Don’t say it, I don’t want to know. I’m going out the front door, you wait five minutes, then use your exit. Hopefully, anyone who might be watching will be too busy tracking me to notice you.”

“But you’re hurt, I can help!” Blake insisted, realizing that despite all of her anger with him, Qrow was the only anchor to her old life left in this godsforsaken city. 

“It’ll take a lot more than this little scratch to kill me,” Qrow scoffed, the effect ruined somewhat as he groaned his way back to his feet. “Alright, time for me to leave. Take care of yourself. Oh, and no matter what you do, you are not to get yourself killed. Is that clear?”

Fighting the urge to cry, Blake laughed and gave a mocking salute. “Yes, sir.”

“Good,” Qrow said. “See you around, kid.”

Then he limped back out the door, closing it behind him with a definitive click.


	6. Running

The evening was a tangled mess of pacing and stress-cleaning, all of it underscored by Yang's increasingly manic conversation with herself. The whole thing made her feel so insane that periodically she had to stop and look at the letter from Qrow to convince herself she hadn’t hallucinated it. Then it was back to cleaning and pacing and muttering to herself about the absurdity of it all. How could she even consider going? Then again, how could she not? Round and round the questions went, changing little and helping Yang not at all. Eventually, she threw herself into bed, nowhere near tired and not even in sight of what she could reasonably call a decision.

She spent a few hours boring holes in the ceiling with her eyes before she gave up. _Late-night run it is_ , she thought, dressing and lacing up her shoes. Her last run was still fresh in her mind, so she decided to stick to campus and hopefully away from her memories. Beacon was big, a few laps around it would be enough to tire her out, and most of it was well-lit. It would likely be on the emptier side, given that classes were still out for the summer, but she doubted she would ever be alone enough to get spooked.

Shadowy trees and darkened houses blurred past as her pumping legs ate up the handful of uphill miles. Then she eased up a hair to enjoy the relatively flat paths that wound through the scenic campus. The campus was far from empty, much to her relief. Apparently, some students were trying to make up for lost time by taking summer classes and were out being typical rowdy college kids as they milled from one party to the next.

Yang shook her head as she passed by a particularly rambunctious group, feeling weirdly old as she overheard some of their drunken boasts and gossip. The thought of mingling with undergrads was less than appealing, so she turned off onto a quieter path, allowing it to carry her in a wide loop. Several turns later she found herself deep in what she was pretty sure was the art quad, or maybe history. Either way, it was an area she rarely frequented that had a notable number of sculptures arrayed amidst the shrubbery. The idyllic scene was immediately spoiled, however, by a muffled shout, no doubt some dumb kids horsing around and trying to climb one of the statues.

As Yang rounded a tall hedge she pulled up short. Two large guys, jocks based on their square jaws, broad shoulders, and somewhat vacant eyes, stared back at her. At their feet cowered a third: small and timid and curled in a ball against the punches and kicks that had only just stopped raining down on him.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Yang demanded, holding her left hand behind her back to conceal its violent shaking, willing it not to transfer to her voice.

The one on the left scoffed. “None of your business, blondie.” His smile widened as he looked her up and down. “Unless you want to leave us your number.”

Yang ignored the weak pass and nodded toward the bundle at his feet. “He a friend of yours?”

“Yeah,” replied the other goon, grinning broadly. “A good buddy. We were just having a friendly discussion, so why don’t you move along?” He took a menacing step toward her. “Before you get drawn into something you’ve got no part in.”

Yang backed away, disgusted at her own fear, but still so shaken from the other night that she didn’t trust herself. Besides, what was she supposed to do against two bruisers on her own? She took another step back, looking down at the cowering man on the ground. More of a boy, really, but she tried not to think about that. “I’m sorry,” she said, inching backward. “I promise I’ll go get help.”

“No! No please,” he begged, looking up at her through broken glasses. “Don’t leave me.”

“I’m sorry,” Yang said again, not sure what else she could do and fighting not to cry as she saw tears in his eyes.

_Coward._

When the dark voice came back she hesitated, knowing it was trying to lead her toward danger. The cause was just, to be sure, but still…

_Will you leave Ruby to her fate too, coward?_

This stopped Yang dead in her tracks. _No_ , she thought, _I would never-_

_What if she’s being held by big scary men? What if it’s too dangerous? Are you going to run and make empty promises about getting help to her?_

No…

 _Go on, run. Just like_ she _did. Just like they_ both _did._

No.

“Let him go,” Yang said, not sure where the words had originated from.

“Or what?”

“Or I run straight to the nearest security guard, and you assholes go to jail,” Yang said matter-of-factly, forcing herself to ignore the terror in the eyes of the one who’d be left helpless if followed through.

The one closest to her laughed, long and hard. “Oh no!” he mocked. “I’m shaking in my boots.” His laughter ran out. “Piss off, blondie.”

Yang felt a spark catch in the pit of her stomach. It wasn’t hers, it didn’t belong in her life anymore, but she supposed it wouldn’t hurt to borrow it. Just this once. “Fine,” she said with a shrug. “If that’s how you’re going to be, I guess I’ll just have to kick both of your asses myself.”

The two goons turned to each other, snorting as their faces turned red. Finally, they burst out laughing so hard that it filled the empty quad. Their uproarious cackling bounced off the brick and mortar, pausing only when they gasped for air and wiped actual tears from their eyes.

Yang looked down at the baffled boy on the ground. “Run,” she hissed, but he hesitated. “I said run gods dammit!” Yang yelled, shocking him into motion. He scrambled to his feet, only just getting out of reach before his attackers could catch their breath and grab him. He sprinted away, stopping once to look back at her. “Get out of here!” she roared.

The jocks no longer seemed amused. “You fucked up now, blondie,” one of them said, not that she cared which. She was too busy feeling the flames as they filled her with heat and power.

_Hold._

The boy reached the edge of the end of the path, sparing another glance back before turning the corner.

_Almost._

All the while the pair kept tossing threats her way, none of which reached her.

_Now._

She turned to the nearest goon, closer now. “Do either of you know jiujitsu?” she asked, cutting off whatever meaningless drivel he was spouting.

From well within striking distance, she received a blank look. “What the fuck-?”

But before he could finish she had grabbed his wrist and launched herself into action. For a moment she was a little sad she couldn’t see his face; a flying armbar was something to behold, and if you weren’t expecting one it would no doubt be very confusing. Using her grip for leverage she swung her legs into position, one draped across his shoulders and the other wrapped around his torso. By the time he thought to struggle it was too late, and she hugged his arm back to her chest before he could snatch it away.

In a normal fight, she might have just submitted him, but this was not a normal fight. Worse, without her right hand, she wouldn’t be able to trap his arm for long. Fortunately, the raging Dragon that was sweeping away her more timid thoughts had a simple solution to this problem. Using her legs she levered her hips into his elbow, but instead of stopping at the point of discomfort, as she had been trained, she pushed straight through, arching her back to its fullest extent until she heard an unsettling snap.

He started screaming a beat after Yang let go and landed awkwardly on the stone path, unable to break her fall properly and losing precious seconds struggling to get up. That seemed to be just enough time for a spike of adrenaline to help her victim forget his pain. She had just reached her knees when he sent her sprawling with a vicious kick to the ribs. A savage smile split her face as she tumbled away. With plenty of space, she rose to her feet, the nagging hitch in her ribs at every breath brushed aside by a wave of murderous calm. She registered the telltale red sheen spreading across her vision, and after wiping her hands across her eyes she confirmed it wasn’t blood.

Her injured opponent looked at her in horror and rage, frozen between the two. His friend launched himself at her, snarling as he swung with all of his burly might. Yang ducked neatly under his wild swipe, muscle memory and reflex taking over despite months out of the ring. She carried her momentum into a tight hook that should have put him to sleep.

If she had a right hand.

She swung what remained of her arm and hit nothing but air. Her attacker snarled a laugh and threw another haymaker. There was no time to weave and Yang was horribly out of position, but she whipped her arm up to absorb most of the blow. It was still plenty to stun her, however, and a well-placed foot from her assailant tangled her feet and sent her sprawling to the ground.

She reached for the rage and fury that should have sustained her, but something was wrong. The Dragon had abandoned her, the shock of being reminded of her injury apparently too much for the simple creature.

Another kick caught her square in the aching ribs, knocking the wind out of her and erasing any thought of getting up. Then kicks were hammering on her from both sides. Apparently, the one with the broken arm was looking for revenge. Yang hoped each swing hurt him as much as it did her. Preferably more. In the end, she did the only thing she could do: curl into a ball, much like the boy had earlier, and cry out uselessly for help.

Internally she kept searching for the Dragon, but all she found was her own, pathetic voice. 

_That life is done_ , it said. _You aren’t that person anymore_.

But-

 _Let it go_.

Yang felt another kick land. She counted her blessings that her assailants didn’t know how to aim for maximum damage, but it was still impossible for her to climb to her feet. What had she been thinking, anyway? Sure, it was noble or whatever to try to help someone in need, but now she was in over her head with no real plan and-

“Hey!”

The kicking ceased.

“What’s going on over there?”

Yang looked up as the two men glared down at her, then turned to run. “You’ll pay for this, blondie!” one of them shouted as they bolted around the corner of the nearest building.

A vague urge swelled up within her to pursue them, to even the score, but that wasn’t her, not anymore. Besides, even the dwindling remains of a warrior in her had to admit that hadn’t gone particularly well. Probably best to walk away while she could. Instead, she groaned and sat up, feeling her ribs and twisting her spine to make sure nothing was seriously injured. Things seemed to be in working order, and she stood and saw a security guard hustling over toward her. A professional, someone whose job it was to protect people.

That’s what Ruby needed: a professional. Not some broken shell of a former fighter who was just going to show up and potentially get them both killed. “Are you alright?” he asked, panting a little as he drew near.

“I am,” Yang said, putting her trembling hand firmly on her hip, stilling it. “Thanks.”

“That’s my job, I’m sorry it took so long. I came as soon as that kid found me and told me what happened.”

“Is he ok?” Yang asked.

“He is, because of you,” he said. “That’s the hardest part of this job, I can’t be everywhere at once. We really need more people.”

“Yeah…” Yang responded vaguely, still looking in the direction her attacker had gone. “Fuck!”

Everywhere at once.

More people.

Her eyes went wide. “Shit!”

“What? What is it?” he said, looking around frantically for more attackers.

“It’s nothing, sorry. I just thought of something,” she said quickly. “Any chance you could give me a lift home?”

“Of course! My car’s a few minutes that way,” he said, pointing toward the next quad over. “If you give me a description of the guys while we walk I can also call the cops and have them search for them.”

“Sure,” Yang said as they walked. “Though I’m not sure I remember too much.”

She did her best to describe the duo, but it was vague at best. Her real focus was on getting home and solidifying the idea that was taking hold in her mind. Then she needed to send a text.

> **Pyrrha**
> 
> _Hey! I know it’s late but I really need to talk to you, are you up?_
> 
> _Actually, yes. Maybe you forgot, but I invited you over for a movie night. We’re just wrapping up now._
> 
> _Great! I know this is super weird, but can you guys wait up for a few minutes? I actually need to talk to all of you._
> 
> _Yang, you’re kind of freaking me out. Are you ok?_
> 
> _I’m fine, but this can’t wait. I’m hopping in my car now, I’ll be over in a sec!_
> 
> _Sure, see you soon._

\--

When Yang arrived Pyrrha gave her a searching look. “Is that a scrape on your face?” she said by way of greeting.

“I fell while…” Yang began, the lie forming so reflexively that she had to physically restrain herself. “I’ll explain later, it might make more sense if I start at the beginning.”

Pyrrha nodded, her concern not abating at all, and watched as Yang strode in with a small bag slung over her shoulder. “What’s in the bag?” she asked.

“I’ll get to that, all in good time,” Yang said, unsure if she was feeling giddy from fear or excitement. Probably both. She was about to take an enormous risk, one she had avoided for a very long time, but now that she was standing on the precipice she found herself eager to take the leap. No more wondering, time to know. She kicked off her shoes and marched in to find the rest of the gang sitting nervously around the table, silent as Yang sat at the head.

“Ok, I’m really sorry to be so dramatic about this, but I’m sort of out of time and options, and I need your help,” Yang announced.

“Of course, we’re here for you, whatever you need,” Pyrrha said as she took a seat next to Jaune.

“Don’t agree just yet,” Yang said, swallowing her nerves. “Hear me out first.”

She launched into her story, starting with her fights and eventually how she became entangled with Blake and her mission to stop the White Fang. She had considered leaving that out, but it didn’t seem like a time for half measures. When she finished her tale she paused, letting it sink in.

“But,” Jaune said, visibly struggling to summon words through his shock. “Why tell us this? Why now?”

“Partly because it’s all behind me, so it seems like someone else’s life. But mostly, because Ruby’s in trouble.”

“What?!” Nora cried, leaping to her feet. When Ren had gently pulled her back down Yang gave them a quick summary of Qrow’s letter, finishing with her decision to go after her.

This time it was Pyrrha who called out, “What?!”

Yang could sympathize with the confused and frightened looks being pointed her way. Less than an hour ago she had been curled up in a ball, helpless as two nobodies kicked the crap out of her. But she had helped that boy get away, and if she had just sat back and done nothing...

She couldn’t do that, not to Ruby. The professionals weren’t coming, and there were no good options. Time to go for the least bad one. “Look, my dad can’t do this, but I can. Or least, I will be able to, with your help,” Yang said, arriving at the critical juncture. There was no avoiding it though, she needed more people. She needed these people.

“I won’t send you off to get killed,” Pyrrha said.

“So you’ll let Ruby die?” Yang shot back.

Jaune put his hand on Pyrrha’s shoulder as she burst into tears, unable to respond. He looked at Yang, his eyes hard. “We’re going with you.”

“No, you’re not,”

“But-“

“Just no, ok? I have a plan, but I need to be mobile to pull it off. And for that, I need your help. Please.”

The group looked at one another anxiously. To everyone’s surprise, it was Ren who spoke first. “What do you need?”

“A miracle,” Yang said, and then launched into her explanation.

“But that’s…” Pyrrha said as she finished.

“Insane!” Nora added.

“I know,” Yang said. “But it’s the best I’ve got. Can you do it?”

“Theoretically?” Ren said, running some calculation in his head. “Yes, I believe so.”

“I mean, obviously yes,” Nora said, not having given it any apparent thought but no less confident.

Pyrrha was the last to respond, fidgeting nervously as she stared into her lap. “I don’t know. If I mess up…”

Yang nodded. “I know, it’s a lot of pressure. I’m not asking for five nines here, I’d settle for two.”

Pyrrha sighed but looked up at her. “Ok, I can do it, but we’re adding safeties in so you don’t end up hurting yourself.”

“Deal. How long would it take?” Yang said, looking around the table.

“I could do it in a month,” Nora said.

Ren shook his head. “Six weeks, seven if you want it properly tested.”

“I don’t know…I,” Pyrrha said, looking up at her friend, already guilty over mistakes she hadn’t made yet. “I guess yeah, maybe a month.”

“Great,” Yang said. “We have two weeks.”

“Ok, even for me that’s pushing it,” Nora declared. “Besides, the shit you’ll need doesn’t come cheap. Even if I worked around the clock I’d need a fortune to requisition all the parts in time. How much is left in your grant?”

“Not that much, and I’d prefer if this stayed off the books,” Yang admitted. “Will a year’s worth of winnings from a champion cage fighter do?” she added with a grin, tipping over her bag and dumping a large pile of Lien across the table.

“I didn’t see that,” Jaune said, standing up and finding something interesting to do by the sink.

“It won’t be up to my usual standards, but if I put everything else on hold I can manage,” Ren said slowly.

Nora grinned at the pile of money. “I do love a challenge.”

Yang looked over at the last holdout, rocking nervously and refusing to look at the pile of money on the table. “Pyrrha?” 

“I just don’t know. I just don’t-“

“Pyrrha, please,” Yang said, her voice dropping near a whisper as she walked over and knelt by her friend, literally pleading. “Please, I need you. Ruby needs you.”

Pyrrha reluctantly met her gaze, looking truly miserable. “Of course I’ll do it, but I’m not going to let you use it unless it’s perfect.”

“So long as it’s perfect in two weeks, I can live with that,” Yang said, standing and placing her hand appreciatively on her dear friend’s shoulder. Looking around she addressed the whole group, “Alright gang, bedtime. Tomorrow morning we start building my new arm.”

*** * * * ***

Blake buried her swirling emotions and raced through her apartment, checking for any items she may have forgotten. She stopped repeatedly and stared at the door, fighting the urge to follow Qrow, to try to help him, each time only just overruling the instinct. She forced herself to focus on her preparations. After a few minutes of internal debate, she put in her dreaded contacts and secured her wig, suspecting a disguise might be useful. A quick rummage through her closet yielded a few articles worth keeping. After stuffing them in her pack she cast one last look around the space she had never bothered to turn into a home, then she raced for the bedroom.

She threw her window open with practiced ease and reached for the collapsible pole hidden under her bed. Extending it out the window, she fished around with the clever little hook at the far end until it caught on the nearly invisible fishing line hanging directly across from her. She pulled it back slowly until the narrow cord was in her grasp. Her hands flashed one over the other as she reeled in the entirety of its slack, dropping it in loose coils at her feet. Then she slowly started pulling down. She felt the resistance drop away and released the line, wary not to cut her hands as the thicker rope it was attached to fell into place across from her and yanked the wire taut.

She had set up the rope within weeks of moving in, never one to accept living without multiple options of escape. It had taken some doing, but she had managed to sneak to the roof of the tall building across from her one night, affixing the rope to a sturdy railing and coiling it nearby, only draping its thin guideline down in the alley, leaving those who passed none the wiser. 

She pulled the rope to her hand and gave it two quick tugs, testing its anchorage, then climbed out the window and swung to the far wall. Fortunately, the white stucco provided plenty of traction, and she was able to mostly walk up the wall to the roof. The shimmy over the ledge was always a little sketchy, but she managed it despite the burden of her bag on her back. Once up, she quickly gathered the rope and guideline all the way up to where she stood. No reason to make pursuit easy if anyone was of a mind to try. As she worked she spared one last glance for her little apartment. She was almost saddened at how little she felt leaving it behind. Just another roof.

The sun still hung low and lazy in the sky, and Blake was well aware that, dressed in all black as she was, she no doubt cut an obvious figure. Still, she risked pausing to search for any sign of Qrow, but he had long since vanished. There was nothing she could do for him now, so she made for the door to the emergency stairwell. It had remained unlocked since her first time picking it and deactivating the alarm, and she silently thanked whichever lax maintenance worker had neglected it as she bolted down the stairs to the street below.

For once, Blake was grateful for the press of people that emerged around dinner time as she allowed herself to be swept up in the crowd. If someone was following her, they would have a harder time of it, and they couldn’t attack so long as she was surrounded by hundreds of others. Blake allowed the flow of bodies to carry her along as she considered her next move. It didn’t seem wise to head for the safehouse in broad daylight, so for the time being she would stay mobile and try to keep an eye out for anyone keeping a suspiciously regular distance from her. When night fell, she would slip into the shadows and disappear, confident that her vision and hearing would allow her to evade anyone still following her once she was in her element.

But what then?

With RLIC in shambles, staying would be a fool’s errand. Her cover was as good as blown once they traced her apartment back to the League, and then she was stuck in Mistral with no job, no money other than the Lien she had stuffed in her bag, and any chance at her name being cleared dwindling as the world teetered closer to war.

She hated to admit it, but Qrow’s suggestion of Menagerie had merit. She would have to face her parents, but once there she would likely be safe. The faunus weren’t going to give up one of their own to a human government, and though Menagerie lacked the power of a full kingdom, its sovereignty was largely left unchallenged. Still, the thought of how her parents might react to her arrival after so many years made her sick. The realization that she would almost certainly never see Yang again was worse. Then again, if she was being honest, that path was looking pretty narrow either way.

And what about those who were going to be caught up in the war?

Blake looked around at the people surrounding her, talking and laughing and arguing and going about their day, blissfully unaware. They all assumed that life would always be as it was. What about them? She had saved lives in Vale, it was true, but she had failed to stop the chain of events that could lead to the deaths of many around her, especially those in the prime of their lives who would be asked to fight. What did she owe them?

She shook her head, trying to dislodge the hubris from her thoughts. Even if she were inclined to help, who was to say she could? What if she tried and failed again, and got herself killed as thanks for her efforts? At least in escape she could live, even if it was only a shadow of a life.

Her head spun with questions and doubts as she looked around, recognizing the neighborhood she had been carried to and worming her way out of the crowd to land on the doorstep of a small cafe she had passed numerous times. Despite the busy street, the cafe itself was largely empty. Those passing by were apparently more interested in stiffer drinks than coffee at this hour, and Blake had no trouble claiming an empty table in the small outdoor seating area after ordering a tea with extra cream.

She placed the back of her chair firmly against the wall behind her and scanned the street. She never focused on any single person, instead, she let her eyes track over the entire crowd and trusted that she would notice if someone was moving counter to the flow. Not only was it an effective way to pick up a tail, but it also had a meditative effect on Blake, calming her mind as she focused on the simple task.

Unfortunately, the calm brought little clarity, and as she sat she found even the former evaporating. The sun was creeping toward the ridge of the mountain range west of the city, and the shop owner had given Blake several meaningful looks that indicated he was trying to close up, probably to go home to his family. Blake smiled sheepishly and brought her empty cup back to the counter, then dropped some extra Lien in the tip jar before sighing her way back into the thinning crowd.

Nighttime was fast approaching, and there was still no sign of anyone following her, so Blake purposefully turned toward the outer stairs. She would stick to highly trafficked routes as long as possible, but the time for aimless wandering was done. She would deliver the journals, then she would decide what came next. No need to come to any definitive conclusions before then.

The address Qrow had given her was several levels down, in a less than savory part of the city commonly known as the Gulch. Blake hadn’t been to the neighborhood herself but she knew it, as most in Mistral did, by reputation. On one hand, she was surprised that RLIC would have chosen such a spot. On the other, she had to commend them for their forethought. The police avoided the district; officers who poked their noses in where they didn’t belong were known to find themselves without one, assuming they found themselves alive at all. Passing through its dark and winding streets at night wasn’t something young women were encouraged to do, much less do alone, but Blake was looking forward to a place with known dangers as opposed to the unseen ones she was still searching for all around her.

She was so busy scanning the periphery of the crowd that she didn’t notice the large man standing in her path until she nearly ran into him, stopping just short and finding herself nearly touching noses with Lou Beringer. Blake was shocked to see that he looked terrible, his face was pale and drawn and his eyes were surrounded by dark bags. A slight lean drew her eyes down, and she saw that his weight was supported in part by an ornate but sturdy cane.

“You…” he said menacingly, apparently still possessing enough energy to express anger. “What did you do to me?” he accused.

“I…” Blake began, unable to formulate a lie through her unexpected rush of guilt. She had wanted to put him to sleep for a few hours, but it seemed she had almost killed the man. Not that he was exactly an angel, but still…

Her indecision was swept away when his free hand shot out to grab her. He was far too slow in his weakened state, however, and Blake nimbly stepped back and immediately slipped into the crowd. Before she had gotten far he was hollering for the men that were apparently nearby, ordering them to give chase. The sound of fancy leather shoes pounding on cobblestones soon echoed in Blake’s ears, letting her know they were doing just that.

She sought out landmarks to get her bearings. She was still a few levels above her destination, not that the Gulch would provide any protection from Beringer, Blake realized. He likely owned a sizable portion of it. She ran on regardless, easily picking her way through the gaps that had opened up between the clusters of people as the crowd had thinned; knowing that her pursuers were doing the same. Worse, based on what she could hear, she wasn’t extending her lead.

Blake looked around frantically. She saw her chance and veered off toward a pile of crates stacked outside a small general store. In two quick bounds, she reached the top, then leaped for the far side as though aiming to lose them in the tangle of people beyond. Instead, the moment she was out of sight she stopped and lunged back, tucking up against the stack she had just vaulted and waiting for the pounding steps to pass her by before she backtracked to the alley behind her.

\--

Two of Beringer’s boys barreled on, sure they would find her if they just kept looking, but the third stopped, trusting his gut feeling that something was off. He turned back and noticed an alleyway right behind where he’d last seen the blonde faunus, and he flashed a crooked grin as he began creeping toward it. The boss was hard on failures, but he was equally generous to those who did what he asked. He wasn’t sure why the dame was so important, but given how foul his boss’s mood had been all week it was unlikely he wanted to show her a good time. Too bad for her.

As the big man leaned around the corner, his grin widened. Halfway down the alley was a woman, dressed differently than before but still in the act of pulling a hood up over what he was pretty sure had been cat ears. He admired her quick thinking, but as he took a few rapid strides and lunged to grab her hand he couldn’t help thinking it wasn’t quick enough.

His dreams of lavish rewards for his service were brought to a screeching halt when the woman turned to face him, her golden eyes filled with shock and outrage. “Unhand me!” she shouted, pulling back her hood and revealing a short mop of dark hair. “I…” the man started, then looked down and felt a surge of primal embarrassment as he saw that despite her narrow frame she had a slight bump around her midriff. “I’m sorry, I thought…I’m sorry,” he stammered, backing away under the furious glare of the mother-to-be in front of him.

“You thought what? That you can just go around grabbing women in the streets? You ruffians are all the same!”

“I’m sorry ma’am, I truly am. I’m…I’m going to go.”

“You better, before I decide to call the police!”

\--

Beringer’s goon hightailed it back to the main street, leaving Blake to chuckle silently to herself, patting the bump of her backpack merrily as she watched him go. She completed her circuitous route to the safe house, taking her time until full dark had reached all but the highest peak of Mistral. She had ditched the false belly shortly after losing Beringer’s men, it wasn’t really all that convincing, but was glad for the rest of her garb. It allowed her to more easily blend with the foot traffic down in the lower levels. She loitered on the street corner half a block from her destination, sticking to the shadowy overhang of a boarded-up business and staring at the single bare bulb illuminating an otherwise unmarked door that might open into salvation. The buildings on the darkened street were narrow and packed in like crooked playing cards in an old deck, leaving no obvious way in beside the front door. When no one arrived or passed by for several minutes she decided she had to risk it.

Abandoning all pretenses of stealth, she stepped openly into the small pool of light and knocked once on the door. Blake heard the sound of a panel moving aside almost immediately, though she could see no outward change as a result.

“Password?” was her only greeting, muttered through the hidden opening.

“Harbinger,” she said, doing her best not to make it a question.

“You’re not…who sent you?” the voice asked, and Blake realized that the person on the other side was nearly as nervous as her.

“Qrow,” she said, her confidence growing.

The sound of shifting wood hit her ears again, followed by the clicking and sliding of several locks being undone before the door was yanked open. The enormous man on the far side looked at her, then glanced anxiously around the alley behind her before waving her into the dark entryway.

He shut and re-locked the door before turning to her. “Were you followed?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

Blake nodded. She had spent the last hour using every trick she knew to throw a tail. If someone had been following her and she didn’t notice they were so talented that everyone in this place was effectively dead already. “I’m sure.”

The man nodded and waved her further inside, returning to his vigil by the door. She followed the short, dimly lit hallway around a bend and found herself in a grungy living room with a small handful of people perched on various pieces of furniture, none of them speaking or even making eye contact. In the center of it all was a pale, stylishly dressed woman, looking like she'd just finished strutting down a runway and glowing like she was under a spotlight. When Blake walked in the woman spared her a curious glance.

“What’s your name, kid?” she asked, despite not obviously being any older than Blake.

“Fiona,” she responded.

The woman looked up, pushing an orange lock back into her otherwise naturally brown hair. “Never heard of you. Is that your real name?” she asked, cocking one perfect eyebrow.

“Maybe, what of it?”

She rolled her eyes. “I don’t have time for this. Who’s your handler?”

“Qrow,” Blake said.

“Fine, you’re Qrow’s brat, good enough for me,” the woman said, closing her scroll and tucking it in the pocket of her skintight jeans. "I'm guessing he's not coming?"

Blake swallowed hard and shook her head. "No."

The woman regarded her grimly, then shrugged. “Ok, then we're probably it. My name’s Coco. Welcome.”

“Welcome to what?” Blake asked, looking around at the uncomfortably silent group.

“To the remains of the Mistral branch of RLIC,” Coco said, trying to make it sound grandiose.

“Excuse me if I’m not impressed.”

Coco scowled at her. “Look, we’ve all had a long day, kid, no need for the attitude. We all have to play nice together if we’re going to keep the world from falling apart.”

Blake looked around at the sorry bunch scattered around the room and realized that the organized resistance she was hoping to find was a fantasy. “I’m not part of any team. I’m just here to deliver some intel from Qrow, then I’m going to lie low until things settle down.”

“You can’t abandon the mission-“

“What mission?” Blake hissed, kicking off murmurs in the room, not all of them in disagreement. “We’re hiding from a slaughter. The only mission we have right now is not dying and based on how few of us are here, that’s not going great.”

“All of us here are safe,” Coco said, stepping up to Blake and looking down her sharp nose at her. It may have been the heels, but she was much taller than she first seemed. “So that mission is accomplished, now we’re going to figure out how to stop things in Mistral from going to shit. We’re going to prevent a war.”

“Best of luck with that,” Blake replied. “I think I might take my chances on my own.”

As she turned to leave Coco reached out and grabbed her arm. “What about the intel?”

Blake cursed herself for saying that out loud. Given the sad state of the agents before her, she doubted they could do as much with the journals in her bag as she could on her own, so she hunted for something else to give the woman glaring at her. Just enough to let Blake slip away into the night.

She was saved from the need to lie when the large man guarding the door burst into the room, filling the entryway with his bulk, his eyes wide with panic. “We’ve got trouble!” he announced right as a resounding thud sounded from the door he’d just vacated. “At least a dozen, all armed,” he added, his words punctuated by more pounding on the door.

Coco glared at Blake. “Were you followed?” 

“No-“

“I…I think it was me,” a small man in the corner said, his head hanging in shame. “I had a tail for a while, I thought I lost them, but…” he said, shrugging helplessly.

“Fucking hell, Hark,” Coco said as she looked around the room, likely searching for options.

When she didn’t speak for the space of a few heartbeats, and an equal number of strikes on the no doubt failing door, Blake shook the arm Coco was still grasping and leaned in. “Where’s your fallback point?”

The woman blinked. “Our…what?”

“You must have one, we need to scatter and reconvene there in a few days. Hopefully, no one will be followed this time.”

“I…no, this is the backup, RLIC hasn’t found us a new one yet-“

“Wake up!” Blake hissed. “There is no RLIC anymore, not here!” When she saw that she had Coco’s attention, she broke it down. “We’re on our own, we’re outnumbered, and we’re outgunned. We need to be smarter than the people trying to kill us.”

“But who-“ Coco began.

Blake cut her off. “Not really the right question right now, I imagine there are all sorts of people who want us dead.”

This drew a half-smile from the woman. “So you are joining us then.”

“I didn’t say that,” Blake said. “But I won’t just leave you to die.” Looking around she noticed another hallway leading further into the rundown house. “Are there other ways out of here?”

Coco nodded, her eyes focusing as her mind caught up. “Of course, at least five, most of them pretty well hidden.”

“Good,” Blake said, then looked around at the waiting group as a plan formed in her mind. “Everyone needs to get out, not at all once. I’m assuming you all have places you can lay low and go dark for a few days?” She was pleased when she saw nods of affirmation. “Good, do that. No one uses comms of any sort, at all, until we regroup. On Saturday, you are all to make your way to the lower mid-level market, look for the Ebis family fish stand. Go to it, look around for a bit, then order the special. Exactly those the words ‘the special,' got it?” More nods. “Ok, time to move.”

Coco watched as she delivered her orders, nodding stiffly to those who looked for the ok to follow them. As the group trickled out into the rear hall, she sized up Blake a second time.

“Thanks,” she said finally. “I hope you decide to hang around after all of this.”

Blake shook her head, her eyes snapping back to the front hallway when the latest thud from the entrance was accompanied by a sickening crunch. “We’ll talk about that later, time to go.”

Coco favored her with a wry grin. “Took the words right out of my mouth.”

\--

Against her own advice, Blake did not disappear as soon as she left the safehouse. Instead, she let her curiosity about their adversaries get the better of her and decided to follow Hark, the one who had apparently led the squad of attackers to their location in the first place. There was no doubt about one thing: he really was terrible at losing a tail. After several blocks he looked over his shoulder, shrugged, and stopped his inadequate attempts at evasion, likely believing himself in the clear. Blake continued to follow him, looking for others who might be doing the same.

She could feel something off right away, but it took her nearly an hour of circling back and rushing ahead of the blissfully unaware man to figure it out. There were at least two people following him, trading off frequently so if he looked around he wouldn’t see the same shape over his shoulder constantly. Blake had to admit that it was being carried off wonderfully, but she was still frustrated with the amateur she now had to help before he got them all killed.

Blake saw her chance when a light rain started to trickle down from the night sky, inspiring Hark to reach into his bag and pulled out a grey cloak. She passed by him casually while he was fussing with his hood, noting that his current pursuer paused a ways back. A short distance ahead was a lively bar emanating laughter and music and a chance to get out of the newly falling rain, and Blake stepped just inside the threshold.

As Hark passed by she hissed his name, and when he stepped over curiously she grabbed his arm and yanked him inside. She unceremoniously dragged him to the back, silencing his protests with a glare as she shoved him into the bathroom and closed the door behind them.

“What are you doing?” he whispered, looking around frantically.

“You’re being followed,” she said. “Give me your cloak.”

“I’m…what? No, I lost them-“

“You couldn’t even lose me. Give it, now.”

“W-why?” he said, obeying despite his protests.

Blake sighed as she swung the cloak around her shoulders and pulled the hood up. “Because I’m going to save your ass. Stay in here for a few minutes, then get a drink at the bar. When you finish that go find a place to hide and just…stay there,” she said, turning to go.

“Thank you,” he said, staring at the ground as he did. “I owe you one.”

“Don’t…just don’t die, ok?” Blake said, rolling her eyes as she returned to the noisy taproom.

A few rapid strides carried her back out into the rain. The man who had been tracking Hark was still lurking a few blocks away, and she threw up her hood and turned her back to him, hoping that her profile looked convincing enough as she set off down the street. A few tense minutes later, she caught sight of his partner reading a paper under a canopy and knew the bait had been taken. For the next hour, she led them on a merry chase, taking them up several levels and as far from the hapless Hark as she could reasonably go.

A few quick turns and dashes later and she was crouched on a rooftop, watching as the pair frantically looked around the empty intersection where they had each last seen her. Once they accepted their failure, they turned and headed off into the night. She trailed after them, unseen and unheard, a wraith sticking to the rooftops she knew so well to avoid detection in the increasingly empty streets.

They reached the middle tier and made their way toward the interior of the ring, stopping in front of an entrance to one of the many manmade caves used as warehouses. Blake was too far away to hear whatever words were exchanged before the door was opened, but she was able to see that the man that greeted them was armed and wearing what looked to be some sort of uniform, though not one for the Mistral Police or Military.

Mercenaries then. Blake stayed for a few moments after the door was closed but soon decided that there was little to be gained and much to be lost by hanging around. She was glad to at least know where they were stationed, but that was a single answer amidst a myriad of new questions. First and foremost, who hired them? Whoever it was must have known about the breaking of the treaty ahead of time, since hiring and bringing in a band of mercenaries big enough to need a warehouse for staging took time.

Beringer had claimed he had been working on something big, and it was looking more and more likely he hadn’t just been shooting his mouth off. Blake cursed herself again for not getting more out of him before he passed out, but there was nothing she could do about it. It did beg the question, though, what part was he playing in all of this, and what else did he know?

Blake spent the next few days constantly on the move. The only time she stopped was when she couldn’t fight off the pull of sleep any longer. Then she sought out the hostels that dotted the lower tiers, places where she could pay cash for a closet of a room in which she could steal a few fitful hours of sleep.

Most of Blake’s first day was spent thinking of one useless plan after another, but right before she passed out in her narrow cot a flash of insight brought the answer to her, fully formed. After that, it had only taken a few hours the next day to secure a house where Blake figure they’d be reasonably safe, and a few more to scout out locations for dead drops to communicate in the event of another breach. All the while she had to remind herself not to get too enmeshed; she was going to get them set up enough so they could adjust to managing things and surviving without RLIC or handlers, and then she was going to do what needed to be done.

Alone.

She had no doubt everyone left had skills of some sort, otherwise, they wouldn’t have been agents at all. Still, they were in such unfamiliar waters she wasn’t confident that they would adapt quickly enough to get anything done, and time was of the essence. The actions of the council felt sudden and poorly considered, with the likeliest outcome being a war they weren’t well-positioned to fight against the militaristic Atlesians. It would make much more sense if they were somehow being coerced, but who would want a war between Mistral and Atlas? After wracking her brain as she prowled the streets there was only one possible answer that she kept coming back to: the White Fang, specifically, Adam.

He had always talked about lighting the fires of revolution, and other such heroic sounding nonsense that Blake and everyone else had lapped right up. When it came time to act, however, he never actually wanted to be out front, face to face with his enemy. He preferred to lie in wait, sneak up behind them and slit their throats while they were distracted. Blake couldn’t quite see the rest of the plan, but a war would be a hell of a distraction. The fact that it would pit the two worst offenders of faunus discrimination against one another was no doubt a bonus for him.

So nothing had changed, really. Blake still needed to stop Adam, period. With no one holding her back she was finally free to take action again. She just needed to figured out what he was planning, and she had thoughts on where to start looking. So long as she could keep herself from being found by the mercenaries hunting down the remains of RLIC, that is.


	7. Armed

Yang hadn’t been in bed long, and even less of that time was spent actually sleeping, but she still sprung from it with more clarity of purpose than she had felt in months. She was worried about Ruby, true, but even that didn’t lessen the relief of being faced with a single, straightforward objective. No need to worry about what she should be doing, just how to do it. No more irritating reminders to think about the future and no time to dwell on the past. She just had to do this one thing, here and now. She snatched up her scroll and looked at the little white card sitting beside it, punching in the number and three simple words.

> _I’ll do it._

By the time she was done brushing her teeth a reply was waiting. It comprised two messages: the first was a clipped series of instructions detailing her travel arrangements and where to go once she reached Anima. The second was a simple:

> _Good luck._

Yang snorted at that and set her scroll aside. There was still one thing she needed to clear up before what would no doubt be a whirlwind couple of weeks. Picking up a pen and grabbing a nearby notebook she started writing. Her left hand was still far from sure, but over the past months had reached a level of competence where her writing was at least legible.

> _Weiss,_
> 
> _I know my last letter said that everything was fine, but I’ve just found out that I was wrong. Ruby’s missing, and I’m going to go find her. I’m sorry to tell you like this, but I couldn’t stand for you not to know what was going on, and it may be a while before you hear from me again._
> 
> _I’m going to bring her back, I promise. When I do, you’ll be among the first to know._
> 
> _All my love,_  
>  _Yang_

Yang fought to regain her sense of purpose amidst the slew of emotions that composing the short note had unleashed, and was relieved she didn’t have to write another to her father quite yet. She knew if she sent one to him too soon he would come rushing to help, or worse, try to stop her. She would send him a message the day she left, one with a profuse apology but no opportunity for him to intervene.

Eager for motion and action to replace her lingering doubts, Yang haphazardly dressed and burst into the golden morning sunshine. She grinned as she was met by a chorus of birds as eager as she was to greet the day. The air was already on its way to hot and so humid that every breath felt like it was drawn through a wet blanket. Still, Yang refused the comfort of air conditioning as she drove toward campus in her wayward sister’s car, opting instead for the feeling of the stifling wind in her hair.

She was the first to arrive at the lab, which gave her time to prepare. She was going to have a hard enough time explaining her coming absence to Dr. Polendina; she didn’t need to add to that a mysterious burst of activity right under his nose. That meant the main lab was out, so she opted to set up in a rarely used demo space off in a lonely wing of their building. It did little more than collect dust in the summer months, and she found it wonderfully abandoned when she pushed opened the creaking door. She made a mental note to drop a note in Pietro’s office with a fabricated explanation for her relocation, as well as something that might cover her departure, and set to work. She shot the others a text to let them know where to find her and then set about relocating and disassembling her last, disastrous test kit in preparation for the massive overhaul it was going to need. She had only just gotten the last pieces into the room when the door swung open to reveal a slouching and dark-eyed Pyrrha.

“Good morning, sunshine! You look positively chipper,” Yang sang out, turning back to her work. A moment later a gentle hand came to rest on her shoulder. She paused to look up at her friend standing over her.

“Yang, you don’t have to put on a brave face all the time,” Pyrrha said slowly.

“What are you talking about?”

“I…” Pyrrha began, bewildered by Yang’s bubbly demeanor. “Aren’t you upset? Aren’t you scared? Or mad, or…anything?”

Yang set her tools down and swiveled to face her. “Of course I am,” she said, surprised that on some level it felt like a lie. “But Ruby needs me, so I’ve got to do this.” A grin snuck onto her face, and she found she was unable to stop it. “And I’m finally going to do it, I’m finally going to finish the arm! I mean, we are, but still!”

Pyrrha nodded uncertainly. “Ok, yeah. But if you need to talk about anything, I’m here.”

“I know, and that means a lot to me. Speaking of talking, did Ren and Nora ride with you? I need Ren to put me in touch with that friend of his.”

Something in Pyrrha's eyes was still uncertain, but Yang was too busy to worry about it as she jogged out of the room and toward Ren’s domain. The quiet man already had his head leaned over some tiny component by the time Yang arrived, but he took a break to call his colleague. Given the early weekend hour, he had only just risen, but he apparently owed Ren a favor and promised to stop by in a few hours.

Satisfied, Yang got out of Ren’s hair and continued to the elevator, which she took to the basement. There she walked into Nora’s workshop, strangely quiet where usually it was filled with the sounds of pounding, grinding, and cutting. Inside, Nora was flipping through a binder that looked to Yang to be a ledger, and as she got closer revealed itself to be a list of materials and suppliers the gifted fabricator had accumulated.

“How’s it going?” Yang asked.

“It would go a lot faster if someone wasn’t reading over my shoulder,” came the snarky reply.

Yang winced, “Sorry, I just know you’re doing a lot of the heavy lifting for this.”

“Such is the curse of one with my talents,” Nora said, laughing as she looked up. “Sorry if I sounded snippy, it’s early and I don’t like being micromanaged.”

Yang smiled guiltily. “Fair enough. I’ll leave you to it. Can I do anything for you?”

“Know anyone who can add more hours to the day?”

“Afraid not.”

“Hmm, shame. Ok, just keep the coffee coming then. Oh, and don’t tell Ren how much you’re bringing me.”

“Deal,” Yang said, chuckling at her antics. “You’re the best.”

“Don’t I know it,” Nora quipped as she turned back to her reading, her head popping up a moment later. “Actually, hold on,” she said, setting down her binder and grabbing a tape measure. “May as well get you sized while you’re here. Take off that silly sweatshirt, it’s like a thousand degrees.”

Until that moment Yang had been studiously ignoring the temperature, but once it was pointed out the sweltering heat in the shop was impossible to overlook. Still, Yang was slow to remove her sweatshirt, feeling oddly reluctant as she did.

“Are you done pretending none of us notice because you have a sleeve covering it?” Nora asked, her tone mocking but gentle as she started taking numerous measurements of both of Yang’s arms, making notes on the nearby schematic of the prototype she had constructed months ago.

“It’s not that, it’s just…I don’t know,” Yang muttered, looking away while she was thoroughly examined.

“Is it about the scarring? Because there’s surprisingly little considering-“

“No, ok. I don’t know, I just don’t like to think too hard about it. Are you done?”

Nora looked up quizzically at her for a moment and then went back to her work. “Almost…there, that should do it,” she declared, watching as Yang shoved her sweatshirt back on despite the sheen of sweat that made the sleeves stick to her as she did. “Come back tomorrow, I’ll have a foam mockup ready so we can check the fit before I begin actually building the thing.”

“Ok, sure,” Yang said, her cheeks flushing from more than the heat. She stopped at the door, not wanting to leave things as they stood. “I’m sorry about…I’m sorry,” she said. “Thank you, for everything. Really.”

Nora nodded, and after a moment her usual impish smile had returned to her face and she was shooing Yang out so she could get to work.

\--

Ren’s friend was intrigued by Yang’s request, but she was worried at first that he couldn’t do it. After a moment of thought, however, he assured her he could have something ready in a few days and she returned to her lab to finally stop bothering other people and start doing some work of her own. Nora would be building the bulk of the arm, but the artificial nervous system was on her. She had briefly considered reusing the one in the prototype, but it had been torn down and rebuilt so many times that she wasn’t sure she could transfer it without damaging it, or how long it would last if she did. Instead, she set about taking everything she had learned through its iterations and creating a whole new version.

She arrived to find Pyrrha with her nose buried in code and her ears wrapped in headphones, so Yang left her to it while she got to work. After what felt like only moments her concentration was broken as Jaune walked in, carrying several containers. He dropped a handful off on the table behind Yang and when she looked at him questioningly he said, “Dinner, you know, for eating.” He rolled his eyes as he walked back out, presumably to deliver the rest to Ren and Nora. Yang swiveled in her chair and looked out the window, shocked to find the sun was in the process of lowering itself toward the horizon.

She got up and stretched, the passage of time thoroughly recognized by her cramped muscles and stiff joints if not her mind. She reached over and tapped Pyrrha on the shoulder gently, and pulled her hand back when the coder yelped and nearly fell off her stool.

“Sorry-“ Yang began.

“No, no, I’m fine, sorry,” Pyrrha said quickly, rubbing her eyes. “Was Jaune here?”

“Yeah, I think he saw how focused you were and didn’t want to bother you.”

Pyrrha smiled guiltily, “Yeah I guess I was kind of in the zone, huh?”

“Just a little,” Yang said. “Come on, let’s eat and get back to the grind. You can make it up to loverboy later.” Together they pounced on the food and did just that. It was dark out long before the four of them stumbled out into the evening, yawning mightily. “Same time tomorrow?” Yang asked, massaging her temples as she walked. The various grumbles aimed at her in response all seemed to point to the affirmative, so she waved to her shambling friends and climbed in her car to drive home. Tired as she was, once she was through the door she felt no inclination to go to sleep, and instead hit the road. Some part of her screamed that she was a lunatic for insisting on running after her last outing, but her carefully chosen path worked out. A few hours later she was back home, sweating profusely and staggering up the stairs to collapse safely into bed.

The next few days blurred together for Yang. She was either working, running, or far less often, sleeping, and only really ate when Jaune showed up to make sure they all did. By the end of the week her manic pace had paid off, and the prototype was wired up for the next, and most important, test. It was only waiting on two components.

The first was delivered by Ren’s friend, who dropped off the box late in the afternoon with a satisfied look on his face. “It took some doing, but here it is. I threw in an extra just in case. Enjoy!” he said without even waiting for Yang to inspect his delivery.

Pyrrha pulled off her headphones. “Is that it?”

Yang pulled out one of the translucent cuffs and nodded. Inside she could just make out the metallic mesh that would be taking the place of her individual electrodes.

_Can’t be everywhere at once._

Funny how sometimes offhand remarks could make things fall into place. Yang’s electrodes were so limited, they could only be in one place at a time, meaning they only worked if she didn’t move. Not anymore, now they could be anywhere, so long as Pyrrha came through. Yang had devised a real-time adaptable grid of neural interfaces that would combine Pyrrha’s computer vision research with Dr. Gardener’s imaging tech. If it worked it would support an order of magnitude more connection points than her prior design with pinpoint accuracy a human could never produce and update latency measured in fractions of milliseconds.

“How soon will you be ready?” Yang asked, marveling at the simple little band that was going to change everything.

Pyrrha glanced around awkwardly. “I don’t know, I need to run more tests-“

“Pyrrha, how soon?” Yang insisted.

“Technically…?”

“It’s ready, isn’t it?” Yang said, seeing immediately that she was right.

Pyrrha, for her part, looked miserable. “Fine, yes. I still want to perfect it and the final version needs a safety of some sort but yes, I’m ready.”

Yang shook her head, not understanding. “Then why do you look like you’re about to cry? This is wonderful-“

“Because I can’t stop hearing you scream!” Pyrrha moaned, her tears finding release. “That day, you sounded like you were dying, and that was, what, five connections?”

“I’m fine-“

“Stop. Saying. That,” Pyrrha said, rising to her feet in a rare show of anger. Yang often forgot how tall her friend was, but suddenly she was very aware. “You’re not fine, and I’m not fine. What if I mess up? What if I hurt you, what if-?”

“Pyrrha, please,” Yang said, putting her hand hesitantly on her friend’s shaking shoulder. “You won’t. You’re the best at what you do, that’s why I asked for your help. I know it’s scary, and I’m sorry that I’m putting so much pressure on you, but Ruby needs me, and I need you. Can we test it?”

“Now?” Pyrrha whispered.

“Now.”

When she got a silent nod in response Yang set about preparing her rig, wiring up the miraculous new interface and shooting Ren and Nora a text so they could come to watch. There wasn’t much use spending another week working if the project was dead on arrival.

Once everything was in place and Ren and Nora had arrived, Pyrrha looked up. “Are you sure you’re ready?” she asked, blinking her eyes after pouring over her initialization script repeatedly.

Yang re-adjusted the straps holding her new interface on. The prototype was a hacked together monstrosity, far too bulky for practical use, but at least it was meant to move with her. The arm sat in its frame, a swarm of cables attaching it to Yang. “I think so,” she said.

“You think?”

“Fine, I'm sure! One hundred percent,” Yang snapped. Drawing a deep breath she steadied her voice. “I’m good, really. How long did you say the initial calibration would take?”

“Ten to fifteen seconds, possibly upwards of a minute,” Pyrrha said, chewing her lip nervously. “It needs to feed the learning algorithm to correlate the visual data with the fidelity of the neural connections.”

“Is it going to be like that every time?” Yang asked, not sure she liked the idea of a minute of pain every time she needed to reset it.

“No, once it has a model to start from it should be much faster, less than a second.”

She nodded nervously, looking over at the Nora and Ren hovering and bouncing in the corner. “Let’s do it.”

Pyrrha looked down, tapping in the command to start the link. “Ok,” she said. “Link coming online in 3…2-"

“Fuck!” Yang said, dropping to one knee as a familiar agony wound its way up her arm and directly into her brain.

“So…I’m guessing it’s up?” Nora said, her glib words overshadowed by her wide-eyed observation of Yang’s writhing.

“Yes,” Pyrrha said, watching in horror as Yang’s face turned crimson while her jaw muscles practically jumped out of her face. After thirty-seconds she checked the readout, not liking what she saw. “I’m going to shut it down, I don’t think it’s-“

“No!” Yang cried through gritted teeth, slowly climbing back to her feet. “No, give it time, I think it’s lessening.”

Her friends watched in horror as she broke out into a heavy sweat, but they did as she asked and allowed her to push through. Gradually her breathing evened out, and Pyrrha waved the others to look at her screen. “It’s stabilizing!” she announced.

Yang nodded, still recovering from the searing pain but noticing new sensations taking its place. As she wiped her forehead with her left hand she heard a gasp from over by the monitor. She looked up and saw Nora covering her mouth and pointing. Following her finger to the prosthetic, Yang saw it was giving a reassuring thumbs-up, and she realized she had done that. Slowly, she thought about relaxing the hand and watched as the metal fingers behaved as though they were her own. Slowly at first, then faster, she moved the fingers, running through a series of dexterity exercises that almost felt natural.

She pulled her eyes from her life’s work, looking up at the amazing people who’d made it a reality. Nora was jumping up and down cheering, already babbling about plans for how she would improve on the initial design and motions of the arm. Ren stood silently, but his small smile and the twinkle in his eyes spoke volumes. Pyrrha was looking hard at Yang, as though expecting her to fall apart or combust at any moment.

“Relax,” Yang said to her. “I’m fine, see?” she added a jaunty, metallic OK sign and was glad to see her friend smile if only a little.

Pyrrha took a breath and stepped around her monitor, looking at the wiggling arm she had helped to animate. Her hands glided out and gently grasped the metal palm. “How does it feel?” she asked.

Yang shivered as a chill ran down her spine. The artificial sensation wasn’t completely accurate, but she could feel Pyrrha’s hands: their warmth and softness and even the moisture from her nervous sweat. Carefully at first, but with more confidence as she grew accustomed to the feedback, she clasped Pyrrha’s hand in return.

“It feels pretty damn good.”

The gang decided to call it there for the night. Everyone still had plenty to do, but it felt right to end the evening on a high note. There was a touch of feedback when the connection shut down, though nothing compared to when it had first switched on, and then Yang was free of the device. Only, it didn’t feel like being free.

It felt more like losing a limb all over again.

She did her best to hold it together for her friends, but while they were walking out to their cars she found herself at the end of her strength and made up an excuse about forgetting something in the lab. Everyone offered to wait but she waved them off with a breezy smile, telling them to go get some rest.

As soon as she was through the door she sprinted for the lab, not even bothering to turn on the lights as she sank to the floor. For a time she was lost to her pain and fear. Maybe she cried, maybe she screamed or called out for someone who wasn’t there, but when the worst had passed she simply sat, curled in a ball on the tiled floor and willing the aching sense of loss to leave her be, to let her move on. She was done with the past, and it seemed horribly unfair to her that it wasn’t done with her. She looked at the arm, tempted to put it on again just to feel whole for a moment, to forget that anything bad had ever happened, but she knew she’d have to take it off eventually, and then what? Start the whole process again?

 _No_ , she thought. _Not tonight_.

She wiped her face with the cuff of her sleeve and heaved herself to her feet, planning her very long run for the evening as she walked slowly out to the parking lot.

\--

After hours of tweaking and reviewing and fixing bugs, Pyrrha sat back at her terminal. “I think I’m done,” she announced.

Yang looked over at her from where she was running the prototype through more tests. She was as much training her own nervous system as the AI model in charge of maintaining the connection at this point. But she had little else to do now that her latest synthetic nervous system was down with Nora and Ren as they integrated it into the final build. “Really?” she asked.

Pyrrha nodded, yawning mightily. “Yes. You’ll have to do the initial fit here, but after that, a minimum version of the control software and the established model will be loaded into the microprocessor array that Ren has built into the cuff. It will continue to learn and adapt, but I had to strip it down to the bare minimum to run on such a small device with so little power.”

“You are a miracle worker,” Yang said, truly in awe. “And a full day early. How can I ever thank you?”

Pyrrha looked at her for a time, then stood and stretched her long frame. “Bring Ruby and yourself home safely and we’ll call it even.”

“She shouldn’t have any problem doing that with this baby,” Nora announced as she came through the door Ren was holding for her, carrying a long, narrow box.

“You guys are done too?!” Yang exclaimed, wincing slightly as she shut down the connection and ripped off the device strapped to her arm, reaching reflexively for her sweatshirt and tossing it on despite not being the least bit cold.

“Who’s the best fabricator in four kingdoms?” Nora asked, holding the box just out of reach as Yang approached her.

“Like I even need to say it.”

Nora grinned. “No, but I like to hear it.”

“You are, Nora. Without a doubt.” Yang looked around the room, astounded at her genius friends and what they had accomplished in so little time. “You’re all the best, in so many ways.”

“We know,” Nora chirped, placing the box dramatically on the table. “Now open it!”

Yang laughed and pulled the lid off the box, her face falling slightly when she beheld the contents. It wasn’t that the arm wasn’t beautiful, it was. In fact, it was without a doubt the most elegantly crafted piece of machinery Yang had ever seen. But she had asked for something subtle, something that would pass at a distance for normal, and staring her in the face was a bright, yellow-on-black, armor-plated arm. Complete with LED power indicators.

“Guys, this…this isn’t the spec we agreed on.”

Ren sent a very smug look Nora’s way, but she ignored him. “No, it isn’t, but this arm isn’t for making friends, it’s for saving your sister,” she said. “Besides, if I’m sending you out into the world wearing my masterpiece it’s going to look the part.”

“I know you wanted something that would be a replacement for…for what you lost,” Pyrrha said, looking terribly guilty for her knowledge of their plan. “But, we thought it might be good for you to remember.”

“What if I don’t want to?” Yang mumbled as she picked up the arm. It was beautiful, she couldn’t deny it. More than that, it radiated a sense of power, of danger. Despite herself, she felt the corners of her mouth pull upward just a bit as she looked it over. “What’s it made of?”

Nora grinned, knowing a satisfied customer when she saw one and intending to reel her in. “As we discussed it’s got a carbon fiber endoskeleton to keep weight down, but the shell is a combination of a composite kevlar weave and a brand new impact and shatter-resistant ceramic, all reinforced with strands of titanium to add flexibility and strength.”

“You made it bulletproof?” Yang asked.

Nora scoffed. “They call anything bulletproof. This baby will stop most small arms fire without a scratch. It also will handle knives just fine.”

“Nora, I don’t need-“

“Shh, I’m not done,” she said, waving off Yang’s protests. “The one area I didn’t try to save weight is in the knuckles: those are tungsten carbide, which is not only incredibly hard-“

“It’s heavy,” Yang finished, shaking her head. “You gave it built-in brass knuckles.”

Nora smiled proudly. “Sure did!”

“Something tells me you didn’t tone down the strength.”

“I did not.”

Yang sighed, but before she could argue fruitlessly that her goal was to keep a low profile and not brawl her away across Anima, Nora went on. “Don’t worry about sensation, the fingertips are as we discussed and the enamel on the rest of the arm has the exact properties your sensors are calibrated for. I also threw in a few goodies like a passive circulatory system that should keep the entire unit reasonably close to body temperature without eating up power or adding much weight.”

“Speaking of which,” Ren jumped in quietly. “Your power cell should be good for six months of constant use, and we have a few spares in the box you can take just in case. In terms of other work, I incorporated all aspects of the old interface into the arm itself, predominantly in the cuff but with redundant microprocessor units in other locations in case the primary is damaged.”

“You think of everything,” Yang said, slowly finding herself losing the ability to fight the unexpected changes, even as she found another. “What about the attachment, this looks different than we discussed.”

“Ren and I cooked that up together!” Nora exclaimed. “We didn’t want you hurting yourself if you pulled too hard on something, so we incorporated a little toy Ren’s been working for ages that I helped him get working.”

“It functions on the same principles as your motorcycle’s safety mechanism, but instead of a temporary cushion, it creates a sort of gravitational anchor. The arm will be affixed to several points in the actual bone of your arm, without any need for physical insertions.”

Yang gaped, that sort of tech had been loosely discussed in various circles but she hadn’t heard of anyone getting it working. “What…how…when?” she stammered, looking at the small miracle in her hands.

But Ren simply smiled, ever the magician unwilling to share his secrets.

“So, are we ready?” Nora asked. Pyrrha nodded, her eyes still on Yang, watching the storm of emotions that couldn't be totally contained.

“Ok,” Yang said quietly, reluctantly removing her arm from her sleeve. “Hook it up.”

With all the training data the initial link was far quicker and less painful than the prototype had been, but it still sent a jolt through Yang’s body as it adjusted. The paired-down program took a few minutes to upload, and Yang fidgeted in her seat while Pyrrha checked and rechecked the status of the onboard system until she finally declared it ready and pulled the data cable. Hesitantly, Yang stood up, lifting the arm out of the cradle in which it had rested while they got it running.

More than any sensation from the arm itself, the first thing she noticed was the feeling of the arm coming with her, of its weight allowing her balance to shift back to center after feeling slightly off-kilter for so long she had stopped noticing. For a moment she simply stared at the back of the plated hand, still vaguely upset at how ostentatious it was, but struggling to maintain her anger in the face of the mechanical marvel. Without a word she stepped over to Pyrrha and wrapped her in a hug, enjoying the feeling of encircling someone she cared about with both arms again. She did the same for Ren and Nora, laughing as the latter jumped into her arms and demanded to be twirled around.

The sensations still felt off, not quite the same from one arm to the other, but she was amazed at how alive the limb felt. She had no problem catching the egg that Ren produced, seemingly from nowhere, and threw her way. Gently she tossed and caught it a few times, satisfied that her sense of touch was adequate. When the door opened suddenly she lost focus, however, and immediately exploded the helpless egg in a rain of yolk that made Nora double with laughter.

The newcomer turned out to be Jaune, and he simply stood and gaped. “Wow,” was all he managed before finding the nearest chair and sitting down, hard.

Yang felt a mixture of pride and embarrassment. His reaction was justified, she had one of the most advanced and elegant machines ever made on her arm, but it was so far from what she wanted that she couldn’t help but feel angry and distraught, then guilty at her own ingratitude. She had been looking forward to being made whole again, and she was, sort of. But what she had really wanted was an end to the staring and awkward questions, an end to the reminders that something was wrong, that something bad had happened. She wanted to be normal.

She had missed that mark but quite a bit.

Self-consciously she unknotted the sleeve of her sweatshirt and threw it on, conspicuously leaving the right sleeve down. “Who wants a drink?” she asked.

It took some convincing, but Yang eventually dragged them all out of the lab despite their protests that they should run final tests. Eventually, they all admitted that there wasn’t much they could actually do and left, everyone agreeing to meet up at a local pub.

Yang started feeling much better after a few drinks. Between the booze and the low lights, she could almost pretend that she was just wearing an odd glove on her right hand, like some sort of fashion statement that was starting to grow on her. She laughed at her own silly thought that it might catch on. Aside from a couple of mysteriously broken glasses (“Nora, you really didn’t need to make it this strong!”), the night went rather well, but by the end Yang found herself sinking into a dark mood, secluded at the end of the bar and staring at the palm of her new hand.

“I’m sorry,” Pyrrha said, sidling up next to her. “I know it wasn’t exactly what you wanted.”

“No, it’s great, really,” Yang said, putting on a brave face more transparent than the last round of shots.

“It’s just that we wanted to protect you-“

“Of course.“

“And we thought-“

“Pyrrha, stop. I really appreciate everything you guys did for me, and if it gets me to Ruby it’s perfect.”

“What about the rest?” Pyrrha asked.

“What?”

“She wasn’t alone. What about all of those other people?”

Yang felt a sinking feeling in her stomach but pushed it aside and took another sip of her beer. “I’ll do what I can, but I’m going for Ruby.”

_Coward_

“Oh.”

She ignored the voice echoing through her head and focused on her friend. “It sounds terrible, but she’s my priority. I’m going to find her, grab her, and get the hell out of Dodge. I’ll notify the authorities when I can though.”

_That’s right, prepare your excuses for when you run, coward._

“I…I understand,” Pyrrha said, though her face indicated she very much did not.

But the moment passed and soon they were surrounded by friends and laughter. When they finally stumbled out into the night even Yang was talking and joking, enjoying a taste of normalcy for the first time in a long time.

It was short-lived, however, as after a quick cab ride home she found herself in the upstairs bathroom, staring at herself in the mirror. What she had hoped would cover up the souvenir of the worst night of her life instead put it on full display. It was like walking around with a neon sign that flashed and hummed and pointed at the exact spot where she had been broken. It was by far the greatest thing to ever emerge from her mind, but it came nowhere near to healing the damage that had been done to her body. Yet she couldn’t bring herself to take it off, to experience that loss yet again, and instead slept through the night with the unforgiving limb tucked under her pillow.

*** * * * ***

“Fiona, my darling! You’re here so early today. Are you finally going to take me up on my offer and run away with me?”

Blake laughed despite her withering fatigue. She had been so tired that forcing the hated contacts into her eyes had nearly been impossible before making the trip up. “Unfortunately no, Mr. Ebis, not today.”

“Just the usual then?” he asked with a wink.

“Actually, I have a favor to ask…” Blake said, suddenly realizing she was preparing to ask something of someone who wasn’t really her friend, just a friendly shopkeeper she saw once a week. Too late now, she thought grimly.

“For you dear, anything,” he said, though a slight question had alighted on his brow. “What do you need?”

“I’m playing…a game of sorts,” Blake said, regretting the need to lie but accepting its necessity for the safety of the other agents as well as the innocent family she was roping in. “Some of my friends will stop by throughout the day and ask for ‘the special,' and I was wondering if you could give them one of these letters wrapped up with whatever fish you most need to sell. Feel free to overcharge them,” she added with a wink, trying to act like this was all marvelous fun.

The fishmonger just laughed. “I don’t understand the silly games you kids play these days, but if it will put a smile on that lovely face of yours, I’d be happy to!”

Thanking him profusely Blake handed him the envelopes, asking that he keep them out of sight until they were delivered, thanking him again when he swore to do just that. Trying to keep her smile pleasant and carefree, Blake walked off into the market, seeking various vantage spots she could use throughout the day to watch the comings and goings at the fishmonger’s stand.

Hark arrived first, and Blake cuffed herself in the forehead as she watched him clumsily perform the transaction, all but dropping the package as he awkwardly searched his pockets for the money to pay. At least he had the sense not to open the fish on the spot, and for that Blake was grateful. As he wandered off, she was more sure than ever that adding a meeting time as well as location was for the best. She whispered a silent prayer that he would find somewhere discreet to wait out the day.

The next to arrive was the big guy who had guarded the door. His native clothes and calm demeanor as he looked at goods in the stalls around the fish stand would have allowed him to blend in, but given that he was head and shoulders above the rest of the crowd Blake wasn’t sure that blending in was really in the cards for him. Regardless, he handled the exchange better than Hark and was soon on his way, still going from shop to shop, even buying a few other little items as he went.

One by one the others came through, some more subtly than others. As morning blossomed into afternoon Blake sat to eat a light lunch and almost missed Coco approaching the stand. She was pleased to see the woman had taken the time to change from her ostentatiously fashionable outfit into something so mundane that, had Blake not overheard her requesting the nonexistent special, she never would have looked twice at the seemingly unassuming woman.

The last to arrive was a sandy-haired faunus with an expressive prehensile tail. He hadn’t bothered with a disguise, he barely even bothered with a shirt, but Blake had to admit that his easygoing charm did most of the work for him. Before long he had everyone in the fish stand laughing at some joke, flashing a confident smile and a thumbs-up as he walked off with his package. Blake watched him go, shaking her head as she closed the book she was reading and prepared to leave, nearly jumping out of her chair when someone appeared next to her.

“Whatcha reading?”

Looking up, Blake was shocked to see the faunus who had just walked away. “Where did you come from?” she hissed.

“Hey, be cool,” he said, turning the empty chair in front of him around backward and plopping down. “Wouldn’t want people to think we were up to something,” he said with a wink before adding. “You look weird as a blonde.”

“You…” Blake said before sighing and rising from her seat. “Come on, if you’re going to be a pest you may as well walk with me to the meetup. What’s your name again?”

“Sun,” he said, smiling brightly as he got up to follow her. “What’s yours?”

“Fiona,” she replied testily.

“No, it’s not,” he replied, giving her an appraising look. “But it’ll do for now.”

Blake glared at him, fighting the upward tug on her lips as she was beset by his infectious grin. Before she could lose the fight, she huffed and turned to run her errands, Sun cheerily tagging along behind her.


	8. Ready?

Yang woke up with a roaring hangover, counting her blessings that she didn’t have to leave until the following day. Halfway through brushing her teeth, she realized she was using her right hand to do so, and upon closer examination noticed that something was off. Everything came rushing back at once, the triumph of her creation hitting her only moments before the reminder of why she needed it, and she spit out the toothpaste with rather more disgust than necessary before rushing out of the bathroom.

She briefly considered taking Bumblebee to the lab, but a violent pulsing in her head informed her that might be a step too far. The door to Ruby’s car creaked as she opened it with her new fingers, and she marveled through her haze as she went through the process of buckling in and starting the car with two hands. She took the drive slowly, both due to the throbbing between her temples and as a cautious test to see if she could drive using only the prosthetic.

The hangover proved to be more of an impediment than her new arm. She arrived safely, then groaned her way out of the car. The trek up the stairs to the lab was miserable, one hand shading her eyes from the punishing sun while the other clutched at her thermos of coffee. Each step was torture as she slogged down the endless hallway, but at long last, she reached their temporary lab and collapsed in a chair to wait for the world to stop spinning. While it settled, Pyrrha staggered in, looking every bit as worse for the wear as Yang as she gingerly lowered herself into the chair opposite.

“I know we had things to celebrate last night, but we may have overdone it,” Pyrrha moaned.

Yang laughed, then clutched her head. “Oh man, yeah, you might be right.”

“That’s a damn fine looking arm though. You should be proud.”

Yang examined it. “I suppose so, though it feels like you guys did all the real work.”

“We helped, but that’s still your baby. Now come on, time for its checkup. When I’m done I imagine Ren and Nora will want to take a look as well.”

The rest of the day was spent on diagnostics. They probably could have completed them in half the time on another day, but they all had the urgency of zombies. Extremely hungover zombies.

Still, according to everyone, everything was shipshape. Tests complete, Yang packed all of her equipment away in her office and stashed the spare parts Ren and Nora had given her in her bag, then took a last look around the lab. She had declined their offer for a proper sendoff, worried that she would miss her boat if they had a repeat performance of the night before, so everyone said their goodbyes as she prepared to head home before dinner for the first time in weeks.

“I can’t thank you guys enough,” she said again, having lost track of how many times she’d repeated it at around fifty.

“No need to thank us,” Ren said.

“Yeah, that was super fun. Just make sure everyone knows I made it.” Nora added.

Yang chuckled and promised she would. Pyrrha offered to walk her out, so she gave Ren and Nora one last hug before striding toward the exit. Though the sun had been bright that morning, the afternoon was overcast and humid, the kind of day that makes you wish for rain just so you can breathe properly again.

Beacon’s commanding position on the hill gave them a panoramic view of the city below. They watched silently as large swaths of light bathed individual blocks here and there where the sun pierced the clouds, like spotlights shining down from the heavens. Out of nowhere, Yang felt herself swept up into a long embrace. She said nothing while Pyrrha gripped her tight, and when her friend pulled away Yang spotted a tear in her emerald eye, but it was quickly swept away as she put on her bravest smile. “We’ll be waiting for you, so don’t take too long.”

“In and out, that’s the plan. I’ll be back in no time,” Yang declared, hoping to reassure her.

Pyrrha nodded. “Be careful.”

“Always.”

\--

Yang arrived, for the last time she hoped, at her empty house. Though she couldn’t put her finger on it, something felt slightly off as she climbed from the driver’s seat and made her way to the front door. It wasn’t until she had unlocked it and taken her first step inside that she placed what was different: there was a faint smell of perfume in the air. Expensive perfume.

Why did it smell so familiar?

“Hey, Yang,” came a quiet voice from her not-so-empty living room. “I’m back.”

“Weiss?!” she exclaimed, dropping her bag in shock.

When she saw her friend hesitate, Yang rushed forward, spreading her arms wide. Weiss spared one glance toward her newest addition before throwing herself into those arms, wrapping her own around Yang’s neck. “I missed you so much!” she cried.

“I missed you too,” Yang said, gently holding the tiny woman burrowing into her shoulder. As she felt the arms around her neck loosen, she lowered Weiss back to the ground.

“Yang,” she began, looking up at her uncertainly. “I…I am so sorry.”

“For what?”

“For leaving like I did, for not being there for you. For scaring off Bl-“

“Blake made her choice,” Yang cut in, her voice flat and eyes hard. Then she softened. “And you don’t need to apologize for leaving. Ruby and I couldn’t have been easy to be around back then. If anything, I should be the one apologizing.” She grimaced as she thought back to the time right before Weiss had left, at the cold hostility that ran throughout their usually warm home. She shuddered.

“You were in such a terrible place, you had every right to be upset. Both of you did.” Weiss shook her head. “I shouldn’t have left.”

“Well, you’re here now, so it doesn’t matter,” Yang assured her, waving off any further argument. “Which brings me to my real question: what are you doing here?”

“I came as soon as I got your letter,” Weiss said. “I was so worried that you had left already, but I saw your bike here and figured that you must not have. And you finished the arm!” she exclaimed, holding out her hand until Yang offered her own for inspection. “It’s magnificent.”

“I…thanks,” Yang said, not wanting to discuss the complexity of her feelings on the matter. “I’m actually leaving tomorrow.”

“Great, I won’t even have to unpack,” Weiss said as she released Yang’s hand.

“Excuse me?”

“I’m coming with you, of course,” Weiss stated, as though there was never any question. “If you had been gone I was going to track you down. This is much more convenient.”

“No, I have to do this-“

“Alone?” Weiss interrupted. “Don’t be stupid, you’re going to need me,” she declared, waving away Yang’s argument like a pesky fly.

“I’m going to need you?”

“Yes, and don’t look so shocked; you’re being an ass.” Weiss waited until Yang’s expression was more to her liking before going on, “What’s your plan, exactly?”

“Get to Ruby, grab her, come home,” Yang said, as though each of those three steps wasn’t riddled with problems.

“Brilliant. What’s your plan if you get seized by the authorities or war breaks out and borders close down completely? Are you even aware that the Mistral Council has voted to break the Vytal Treaty? The normal rules don’t apply anymore, Yang.”

“I…will figure it out,” Yang responded, not liking at all where this conversation was going.

Weiss pursed her lips. “Right. As I was saying, you need me. Mostly you need this.” Her hand blurred as she flicked out an identification card that had her picture, name, and basic information on it. Flipping it around revealed a short paragraph in legalese that mostly boiled down to two prominent words: diplomatic immunity.

“Where did you get this?” Yang demanded.

“Turns out my dad isn’t the only Schnee who’s connected.”

“Winter?”

Weiss smiled. “It took a bit of convincing, but she decided she’d rather I end up in trouble than prison. With this, small group of associates and I won’t be arrested on sight. Worst case we’ll be deported either to Atlas or our port of origin. In either case, the authorities do half the work for us, assuming we’ve already found Ruby.”

Yang chewed this over. It certainly would make their lives a great deal easier, still though… “What if we aren’t caught by the authorities?” she challenged. “This card won’t do you much good then.”

“I can take care of myself.”

Yang snorted. “Oh really?”

Weiss glared at her. “Do you have any idea what it means to be the heiress to a fortune like my family’s?”

“Lot’s of fancy parties and fine dining?”

“Kidnapping and ransom, usually,” Weiss snapped, silencing Yang’s snark. “Yeah, doesn’t sound so fun now, does it? As the heiress, my second most important job was learning everything I needed to know to take over my father’s company. The first was learning how not to get kidnapped. Once people find out your family pays ransoms it’s all over. My father always swore he never would. Fortunately, we didn’t have to find out if he was bluffing.”

Yang shook her head. “I don’t see what this has to do with anything-“

“It means I’m not helpless.”

“What, you know how to fight?”

“No,” Weiss said, not a trace of shame in her admission. “I know how not to be a victim. I know how not to be a liability.”

“Forgive me if I don’t take you at your word,” Yang said, trying to be diplomatic but finding it preposterous that the Ice Queen could hold her own.

“Fine, kidnap me-“

But Yang had already sprung, not interested in whether or not her friend could counter something expected. The new arm was intoxicatingly fluid, and without causing harm she soon had Weiss’s wrist in an iron grip. She began to draw a triumphant breath to declare her point made, but Weiss was already in motion. Curiously, she was not pulling away as Yang would expect from a novice, but instead was gliding closer. Like a ballroom dancer, Weiss spun herself, placing her back tight against Yang. It was smooth, but it left her even more open to someone with any training, and Yang smiled to herself and she reached up for an easy chokehold. More to make her point than anything.

She halted her hand immediately when she felt something unexpected: a sharp pressure just below her sternum. Taking a half step back she looked down. She was shocked to see the narrow tip of a stiletto resting against her stomach, originating from between Weiss’s body and arm. The small woman turned her head, one eyebrow arched at her thoroughly defeated opponent, blowing a smug kiss as she was released.

“When did you start carrying knives?” Yang accused as they parted.

“When I was seven, I only stopped when I was disinherited,” she replied, twirling the blade casually.

“What would you do if you didn’t have one available?”

Weiss looked at her with a look of such frigid determination that she almost took a step back. “Then I would have to get nasty.”

Yang swallowed but pressed the attack. “What if there were multiple attackers?”

“Then I would have to get really nasty,” Weiss said, voice just above a whisper as she stepped boldly into Yang’s space. “I need to know that she’s ok; that both of you are. I’m going with you.”

“I don’t have a ticket for you.”

“I’ll take care of that, too.”

Yang cursed internally, then relented. “Fine, we leave first thing in the morning. Whatever you have, ditch most of it, we’re traveling light. Also, make sure you wear something you’ll be comfortable riding in.”

Weiss stepped back, all sunshine and rainbows now that she’d gotten her way. “Wonderful, how about dinner? Maybe some wine?”

Yang shook her head, feeling vaguely ill at the mention of alcohol. “Food yes, wine no,” she said, looking at her longtime friend with a new appreciation. “It really is good to see you again Weiss.”

She beamed. “Likewise.”

\--

The instant her alarm went off Yang reached over and silenced it. She and Weiss had stayed up talking long enough that she hadn’t needed a run to fall asleep, but she was still awake well before the sun lit her room. Her yawn was deep and long in proportion to her exhaustion and carried on while she stretched the weariness from her joints. She rolled to a sitting position, unconsciously running her hand through her sleep-scattered hair and shivering slightly at the still-unfamiliar feeling of synthetic fingers on her scalp. Removing the hand from her head, she gazed at it for a moment, trying to push aside her remaining discomfort at its appearance as she drew strength from its presence. She told herself that she was whole, whole enough at least, and that meant she could bring Ruby home. Nothing else mattered.

Nothing.

She quickly dressed in a t-shirt and sturdy jeans, brushed her teeth and combed out her hair, then hurried down the stairs to make coffee. Now that she had set herself in motion she was building momentum, finding it harder and harder to keep still for more than a heartbeat. She danced to an increasingly erratic internal rhythm as she careened wildly around the kitchen, snatching a mug out of the cupboard when the coffee was done and bringing it down harder than she intended in her vibrant yellow hand, smashing it to bits on the counter and shocking herself out of her moving trance. She stared at the shattered mug, frozen for a moment as her heart pounded.

A small yelp from behind her informed her that she wasn’t alone, and she turned to find Weiss standing in the doorway, eyes wide and a hand over her mouth. Yang looked down at the shattered remains of the mug in her mechanical fingers, then pushed aside her fear with a laugh and a shrug. “Guess I just got distracted, no big deal, see?” she said, holding up the unharmed hand in question and wiggling her fingers. She wasn't entirely sure who she was convincing, or if it was working. “I’ll just clean this up.”

She grabbed a small brush and dustbin and began to clean, and Weiss silently came to stand beside her, resting a hand on her shoulder. “Are you ok?”

“I’m fine, just anxious to get going.”

Weiss nodded, obviously still concerned but opting to let it drop before anything else was broken. “I’m ready to leave when you are,” she offered, grabbing a mug for each of them and splitting the pot.

Yang looked her up and down, noting her tight grey jeans over flashy high-heeled boots and a white, hi-tech looking long-sleeved shirt. “Not messing around, eh?” she observed.

“You said comfortable riding clothes.”

“Not what I would pick, but if it works for you, fine. Got a jacket?”

“Obviously,” Weiss said as she sipped daintily at her coffee.

Yang doubted she was going to be satisfied with what Weiss had chosen but figured they could always pick up a replacement in Anima. They finished their coffee, then headed to the living room to check their bags one last time, and she asked to see the jacket in question. She immediately assumed she’d been right once she saw the royal blue leather piece that Weiss produced. Yang had never seen leather in that color, not real leather at least, but after holding out her hand was satisfied that despite being light it seemed more rugged than its fashionable appearance had implied. Naturally, when Weiss put it on the cut fit her so perfectly she looked like she was born in it, as was the case with everything she owned. Yang shook her head fondly at her friend and swung her own on, a well-worn summer jacket of leather and canvas in various shades of brown.

Her hands unconsciously dug through the pockets and came out clutching her fingerless riding gloves. She slipped them on and was quite pleased with the visual effect. At a glance, she would look like she was wearing nothing more than an odd glove on her right hand, especially from a distance. Weiss watched as she fiddled with the gloves, chewing her lip but not saying anything.

Yang started when she noticed her scrutiny. “Sorry, ready to go?”

Weiss nodded. “Yes, let’s do this.”

They stepped outside, turning to take one last look at the apartment and then each other while voicing exactly none of their fears. The moment passed and they sauntered over to Bumblebee. Though Yang had needed to tell Weiss to downsize multiple times the night before, they had managed to get their combined baggage down to a single saddlebag. When Weiss had complained about the wasted space Yang pointed out that they might want food and water to not, you know, die. This had led to a shocking revelation for the former heiress when Yang had to break it to her that they might be sleeping outside regularly on their little trip. For a brief moment, she had thought she had finally found the line Weiss wouldn’t cross, but once her initial discomfort had passed she set her face in the same look of fierce determination she had sported when Yang had implied she couldn’t protect herself. Her mind was made up, it seemed, unacceptable sleeping conditions or no.

They approached the bike and Yang reached out to steady it, turning to explain how to climb on. Despite never having ridden with her or, Yang assumed, anyone else, Weiss swung herself onto the seat in a single fluid motion, meeting her friend’s surprised look with haughty disdain. Yang stifled a laugh, sure that Weiss had watched several videos on how to perform the feat so that she wouldn’t embarrass herself, and mounted up.

The engine coughed, then sputtered, then roared. Yang thrilled at the feeling of its violent heartbeat rumbling to life beneath her for the first time in so many months. She shook her head and chuckled softly as she felt Weiss wobble a bit at the sudden cacophony, then felt dainty arms encircling her waist for balance.

It may have been the rush of being back in the saddle, or maybe amusement at the proud woman behind her trying to act like she wasn’t terrified, or possibly a bit of fear for her sister or excitement for the journey they were beginning that was coursing through Yang’s veins. Whatever it was, it robbed her of her focus just as she was twitching the throttle, and rather than taking off smoothly down their street she launched them forward with a violent jerk, lifting the front tire far enough that she needed to throw her weight over the handlebars to set things to rights.

Though she shouted assurances over her shoulder at the floridly swearing Weiss, the truth was that she had scared herself quite badly, and the profuse sweat under her light jacket had little to do with the warm morning sun. She cast a furtive glance down at her right hand, gently torquing the throttle while cursing herself and the still-unfamiliar strength of her new limb. Without further incident, she steered them down the winding road that led to the ocean.

*** * * * ***

Blake sent Sun ahead with the large basket she’d acquired and filled at the market, while she scouted the area around the meeting site. She’d chosen a park high up on one of the peaks that was often frequented by families and other small groups around that time for picnics or late afternoon strolls. There were even little contained fire pits stocked with wood for those in a mood to cook. Satisfied that no one was currently following them, Blake swooped in to join the group, removing her contacts and wig as she sat down.

“Tell me you don’t intend for us to set up camp in this park,” Coco deadpanned as Blake settled in.

“Don’t be silly,” she responded. “Given what happened last time I wasn’t about to send you straight to the place I chose.”

“So what are we doing here?”

Blake held out her hand and Sun passed her back her basket, which she opened and proceeded to unpack. “Well, you all have a bunch of amazing fish with you, so for now we’re cooking,” she said casually, smiling as Coco rolled her eyes. “It would look weird if a bunch of people met up here and then just left. We’ll eat and then I’ll bring you there, ok?” Coco gave in after a beat, and the rest followed suit. _No question about who the leader is_ , Blake thought as she watched the woman closely.

Soon, the initial awkwardness wore off and everyone got into character as a bunch of carefree youths having a picnic on a lovely summer day, sticking to bland and vapid topics but enjoying themselves nonetheless. Even Blake found herself laughing along, especially when Sun started juggling various fruits, adding more and more until he lost control and they fell on him in a heap.

She almost forgot what their true purpose was until they had nearly finished cleaning up and Coco cleared her throat and gave her an expectant look. Blake allowed herself to hold fast to the carefree sensation of being young and normal, just for the space of a breath. She took one last look around, letting her eyes wander across a young couple lying in the shade of an old tree while a gaggle of children ran around and laughed as they played a made-up game. She turned and gazed out at the breathtaking view the park was most known for, situated as it was on the edge of the cliff overlooking the city and the seemingly endless rolling plains below.

“Right,” Blake said quietly, coming back to herself. “Coco, you take Hark,” she began, cringing when his head fell. “Sorry, nothing personal.”

“No…you’re right, it’s fine,” he said, pulling himself back upright.

“Good,” she said. “Everyone else, break off as you will, and make your way down three levels. Go to the northwest ridge, look for a white X on the stone wall. The ninth house after that is ours. Try not to show up all at once.”

Everyone nodded solemnly and split off, Coco waiting behind with Hark as she scrutinized Blake. “Not your first rodeo, is it?” she remarked.

“No,” Blake replied. She didn’t elaborate.

The leader of their little band looked like she was tempted to press further, but then she shrugged and looped her arm through Hark’s, leading him confidently out toward the street. Blake watched them leave before making one last circuit of the picturesque little park. Satisfied that no one remaining seem overly interested in the comings and goings of others, she swiftly made her way to their destination, hoping to scout around thoroughly before the others arrived. Everything looked peaceful when she came in view of the posh neighborhood in which they would be situated. The large house looked mostly identical to the others around it: perfectly manicured lawn, pristine white walls with dark hardwood trimming, and numerous balconies on the backside facing the stunning view of the valley below.

She had just slipped in through the top floor window she had left ajar in her last visit when the first knock sounded at the door. Her feet flashed silently down the stairs, and she opened the big wooden door a crack before letting in the soft-spoken giant. “I’m sorry, I never caught your name before,” she said as he entered.

“Yatsuhashi,” he replied, extending his massive hand. “You’re Fiona, right?”

“Yeah…” Blake said after a brief hesitation, accepting his hand with her own much smaller one. “Do you mind handling door duty? I want to check the rest of the house one last time. Just to be sure.”

“Of course.”

“Thanks,” she said, turning toward the interior. She breezed through the large and well-appointed living and dining rooms on the first floor, satisfied that nothing seemed out of place. Then she swept her way to the upper levels with their bedrooms and studies and numerous and lavish bathrooms. Finally, she completed her search in the best surprise the home had to offer: a library that occupied the entire attic space, packed floor to ceiling with old books and filled with the light of the setting sun streaming in through massive skylights. Blake was tempted to shut the door to the magical room and never leave, but the bubbles of conversation floating up the stairs seemed to be growing larger. She took one last look around, breathing in the soothing smell of paper and old wood and leather, and reluctantly made her way back to the stairs and down to the crowded entryway.

“Not bad, kid,” Coco said, nodding her approval as Blake descended into view.

“This place is great!” Sun exclaimed, then seemed to reconsider. “But not exactly hidden…”

Blake rolled her eyes as she joined them. “We don’t need to literally be underground, we just need a place where people won’t think to look for us.”

“Yeah, but what if one of the rich people on this block decides we don’t look like we belong and calls the cops?” Sun remarked, waving his tail to drive home the implication.

Blake flattened her ears self-consciously, before willing them back upright. “Yes well, some of us will have to be a bit cautious, but I hope that those same neighbors will also notice any thugs skulking around meaning us harm.”

Sun considered this. “You know, when you put it that way, it’s pretty clever!”

“Thanks, glad to hear I’m not a total moron,” Blake deadpanned. “Come on, the living room is this way.”

As everyone filtered past her, she was pleased to note they all carried their own version of the go-bag she had already stashed in one of the rooms upstairs. Not total amateurs then. After they’d all gone by, Coco pulled her aside. “Serious question, how did you find this place? Also, how are you paying for it?”

“A magician never reveals her secrets,” Blake said, wiggling her fingers dramatically.

“I’m not in the mood for jokes,” Coco warned. “I need to know who I should expect to come knocking at the door when they figure out whatever game you played.”

Blake pursed her lips. “Fine,” she relented. “I overheard the owner complaining while at my cover job. I’m a waitress, he’s a real estate developer in a lot of debt. I may have convinced him that I was a personal friend and representative of the Schnee Family, interested in purchasing a great deal of property in Mistral. Discreetly, of course. I may have also mentioned that having suitable accommodations from which to stage our search might incline us towards certain properties over others.”

“Ok, brilliant in theory,” Coco said. “But how did a faunus, no offense, convince anyone they were a personal friend of the Schnees?”

“None taken, and that is not something you need to know,” Blake said, partly from a desire to keep her secrets, but mostly from shame. Using the photograph from just after the Solstice had been an act of desperation, and not one she was proud of, but it had certainly convinced the man. Sometimes it was useful that Weiss was so undeniably a Schnee. “All you do need to know is I bought us at least a month here, free of charge and suspicion. After that, no promises.”

Coco accepted the evasion without comment. “A month is a blessing at this point, thank you Fiona, for…everything. We probably wouldn’t all be alive without you.” She shook her head, trying to clear several emotions and seemingly getting back on track. “What is this place anyway?”

“I think it’s his second home?” Blake said with a shrug.

“He’s super in debt and still has a second home?” Coco remarked. “Fucking rich people.”

“Right?”

“So, you joining us?” she asked.

Blake hesitated. “I’m not sure, I need to focus on my own mission.”

Coco cocked her head. “Which is?”

This brought Blake up short, but she supposed there was no harm in saying it aloud. “I need to stop whatever it is the White Fang is planning.”

“There are bigger things going on here than just the White Fang,” Coco replied, frowning.

“Maybe, but I think they’re at the core of all of this. Besides, it’s…personal.”

Coco considered this. “Do you have a plan?”

“I have a lead.”

“That’s not a plan.”

Blake glared at her. “Do you have a plan?” she challenged.

Coco’s face eased into a mysterious smile. “Guess you’ll have to hang around and find out.”

Blake chewed this over, not enjoying the fact that the infuriatingly calm woman before her was right: she didn’t have a plan. “Fine, I’ll stay,” she said. “But I want to make something clear: I don’t work for you, I work with you. If I can help you, I will, but my mission comes first.”

Coco seemed unperturbed by her conditions, simply nodding as if they were roughly what she had expected. “Fair enough,” she said when Blake was through. “Unless there’s anything else, why not come meet your new team?”

Blake breathed in the word, unsure if she liked how it tasted but curious nonetheless. “Yeah…ok.”


	9. Embarking

“Are you sure we’re in the right place?” Weiss asked, frowning up at the wall of rust before them.

Yang pulled down her aviators, scanning the scarred and pitted metal siding of the midsized cargo ship as it bobbed lethargically against the dock. After missing it twice, her eyes landed on the chipped and hardly legible white paint declaring the craft's name. “The _SS Itinerant_. Yup, that’s it,” she said, killing the engine and setting the kickstand.

Weiss took one more uncertain look at it before following Yang in dismounting. “This doesn’t look like a passenger boat,” she pointed out.

“That’s because it’s not,” Yang replied brightly. “That going to be a problem?”

Weiss shook her head. “Of course not,” she said, her voice tight.

Yang chuckled as they picked their way down the dock, heading for a large man flipping through a sheaf of papers and shouting orders to the laborers moving crates all around him. “You ladies lost?” he asked when he spotted them approaching.

“Hope not,” Yang replied. “We’re supposed to be taking a ride with you to Anima.”

The man looked at them doubtfully. “We don’t normally take passengers, and I was told it was just one and a motorcycle. Unless one of you is hiding a set of wheels under your jacket, it seems we have a problem.”

Yang started to speak up, hoping she would come up with something as she did, but Weiss beat her to it. “If you have room for one, surely two isn’t that much of an extra burden,” she said, laying on one of her rare but impressive displays of charm.

The man almost looked swayed, then he shook his head. “We only have one extra cabin, and it’s small.”

“We’ll share,” she offered.

He narrowed his eyes. “I suppose you’ll expect to be fed, or you going to share that as well?”

Weiss’s smile broadened. Now that she had a foothold it was just a matter of closing, and Yang knew how that usually went. “I don’t eat much, but I suppose I would like my own portion. How much might something like that set you back?”

“It’s not just about food, we’re still carrying you across the sea.”

“Naturally,” Weiss agreed. “I wouldn’t expect you to do that for free.”

The man was silent for a moment, his face a clear window into his internal battle between the opportunity for a quick profit and his dislike of being told what to do. When the two reached a ceasefire he snorted and offered a number. Weiss smiled and countered with half that amount, and before Yang could step in to remind her that the price wasn’t important, they were in the midst of a fierce negotiation. Yang wasn’t able to follow most of it, but she had no trouble determining who won as Weiss counted out the Lien she had agreed to with a smirk, adding a little extra at the end.

“What’s that for?” the captain asked, recounting and pocketing the money without waiting for an answer.

“It was to thank you, I haven’t had such a worthy adversary in quite sometime.”

“Gods girl, if you were any better you would have ended up owning my ship. If I’m the best you’ve gone against in a while I pity the poor fools you’ve left in your wake,” he said, smiling despite his complaints. “Still got the bike, or is that going to turn out to be a stretch limo?”

Yang smiled and shook her head, “Just a motorcycle, it’s back at the end of the dock.”

“Alright, I’ll send one of my crew with you so can point it out. It'll be stashed down in the hold, so make sure to grab anything you’ll need before we get to Anima. Once you’re all set, he’ll show you around the ship,” he said, looking around for the nearest body. “Ah, Johannes, perfect, get over here. Our passenger turned out to have a guest, but we’re all settled on that. Go get her bike squared away then show them to their cabin.” Turning back to Weiss and Yang he tipped his cap. “Johannes here is my first mate, he’ll take care of you. Welcome aboard the _Itinerant_ , ladies.”

\--

After a quick tour of the boat and assurances that if they wanted anything they need only ask, Johannes departed to help finish preparing to launch. He left Yang and Weiss in their tiny room with its single round window up in the corner, currently facing out over the bay. The room had a small rack for their bags and a single slab of a bed about the size of a cot against the wall. That they could both stand inside at once was more a testament to how slender Weiss was than the size of the room, and they quickly agreed to spend the day out on deck in the open air.

The _Itinerant_ pushed off from the pier with a deep rumble of its massive engines some time later. When it did, Weiss and Yang turned back from their vantage point at the bow to look back at Vale. Their eyes met, and they couldn’t help but laugh at the wild thrill they each saw in the other. What they were doing was insane, Weiss wasn’t about to argue otherwise, but there was something liberating about the unquestionable need to do it regardless. There at the start, with nothing to do and nothing, yet, to worry about, she followed Yang’s lead and breathed in the salty air, let the ocean breeze wash over her, and marveled at how vividly alive she felt on that rusty boat as it bobbed and shuddered its way with increasing urgency toward the sea.

In time, they grew curious and decided to explore a bit, doing their best to stay out of the way while the relatively small crew, for their part, largely ignored them. One sailor decided to take his shot with a well-practiced but poorly constructed line and had the misfortune of delivering it right as the captain was walking up behind him, earning himself a swift cuff in the back of the head and several extra assignments to fill his time for the rest of the trip. The man apologized before scampering off to attend to one of his new duties, while the captain tipped his hat to the ladies and continued on his way.

The ship labored out to sea while the sun glided up toward the zenith, soon blazing overhead and overpowering the pleasant breeze. Weiss decided to shed her jacket before she was forced to find out if her moisture-wicking shirt worked as advertised, but when she commented on the heat Yang replied with a noncommittal shrug. Weiss turned and was surprised when she saw the perpetually warm woman still wearing her own jacket, both sleeves conspicuously pulled out of the rolled cuffs they had started in. Looking down, Weiss noted that she had even kept her right glove on, though she would hardly be doing any riding on the ship. Pursing her lips, Weiss glanced away before Yang could notice her scrutiny, though she knew she wouldn’t be able to avoid bringing it up for long.

Dinner was plain but filling, and they ate it in the small galley and watched as crew members trickled in one or two at a time to eat quickly and return to their work. The cook was an old man with a wicked laugh who took the chance to spin several yarns he’d no doubt worn threadbare with the rest of the crew but knew would be fresh for his latest audience. He definitely seemed to enjoy their reactions as much as they did his animated and crass delivery.

Vale was little more than a hazy glow on the horizon behind them by the time the sun went down, leaving them with little light beyond the startlingly dense blanket of stars and slowly rising moon. Yang suggested they stay on deck for a time, admitting that she’d never been on a ship in the open ocean before. Weiss readily agreed, and despite a lifetime of traveling all over the world was just as awestruck by the twinkling lights above them and the rippling reflection on the surface of the mysterious deep below. The gentle bobbing of the boat soon set them both to yawning, and they agreed to try to get some sleep, only fully appreciating the difficulty of that task when they were back in their room.

“I’d almost forgotten,” Weiss said, shaking her head as she hung up her jacket on the back of the door.

“Yeah…we could go head to feet…”

“You’re crazy if you think I’m sleeping anywhere near your feet.”

“Fair,” Yang said, hanging up her own jacket and kicking off her boots, then shrugging and taking off her jeans. “You going to leave this part out when you tell Ruby about our daring rescue mission?” she asked with a ridiculous grin as she lay back on the cot.

“Don’t make it weird,” Weiss said, shaking her head as she grabbed shorts out of her bag. “And stop looking.”

“Fine, fine,” Yang said, laughing as she covered her eyes. After a moment of fussing, Weiss said she could open them but didn’t move to get in the bed. “What?”

“Are you…aren’t you going to take off, you know, your arm?”

“Why?” Yang asked.

“It’s just, this morning…”

“Is this about the coffee cup?”

“Well yeah, that and the motorcycle-“

“Ok, that was just me being out of practice-“

“What about the handrail this evening?”

“What handrail?” Yang asked.

Weiss took a breath, aware that she was upsetting her friend but adamant, for both of their sakes. “Are you telling me you don’t remember sneezing and leaving finger indents on the handrail?”

“Oh…that…” Yang said, looking down at the hand in question.

“The steel handrail,” Weiss insisted.

“Yeah, I get it. So I’m still learning precision, it’s not a big deal-“

“It is a big deal when I’m going to be sleeping very close to you,” Weiss said, trying to be gentle but unwilling to be ignored.

Yang hung her head, finally seeing the futility in arguing. “Fine,” she grumbled. “Just…just shut off the light, ok?”

Weiss waited a moment but relented, flicking off their single overhead light and leaving the room in darkness. She heard a series of mechanical clicks and whirrs, followed by a brief hiss of pain from the bed in front of her. Before she could say anything, a smooth object that was both heavier and lighter than she expected was shoved into her hands.

“Here, alright?” Yang said, her voice both sullen and full of an unexpected hint of grief. “Just put it on the luggage rack.”

Weiss did as she was told and then slipped into the bed, met by the wall of Yang’s back and placing her own against it. “Thank you,” she murmured into the darkness after a quietly loaded moment.

“Whatever,” was all the response she got, then there was only silence and the sound of the all-encompassing sea.

\--

Yang was flying, the air warm and oddly salty, but the way it made her hair whip and tangle around her was right. The landing was rough, as always, and as she stood he was there, his terrible mask concealing his face but incapable of blocking the seething hatred pouring from his eyes. Under that familiar gaze, she felt a rush of panic quicken her pulse and drive the breath from her lungs. Every rational fiber in her being screamed, pleaded for her to run. But the raging beast within denied those pleas, and she felt her muscles coil and release, flinging her toward the masked man as he leered at her and pulled his gun.

“No!” Yang shouted, snapping upright and whipping her head around, trying to find the threat in the darkness around her. She jumped when a hand sought hers, relaxing slightly under its gentle touch.

A soothing voice, just above a whisper, reached her ears. “Yang, it’s ok, it was just a dream.” 

“Blake?”

There was a long beat of silence. “No…it’s me,” the voice said. “It’s Weiss.”

Yang stifled a sob, then started thrashing to free herself from the covers.

“Yang, relax. What’s wrong?”

“Where is it?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Where is it?!” she demanded.

Weiss finally caught her meaning and began to rise. “It’s on the rack, where you told me to put it. I’ll-“

“No, it’s fine,” Yang said, climbing over and reaching for the arm frantically. A moment later she gave a small cry as she jammed it on and activated the connection, sliding down along the wall until she was crouched in a pool of sweat and moonlight, the latter filtered in through the small window above. Weiss watched in silence while Yang clasped the newly affixed arm with the other, her head bowed as if in prayer and her labored breathing gradually slowing.

She was silent for a time, flexing the mechanical fingers and rotating her wrist, studiously ignoring the silent regard of her friend. Finally, Weiss spoke. “Were you dreaming about…that night?”

Yang didn’t respond at first. After a deep breath, she nodded. “Yeah,” she said quietly.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.”

“I…are you sure?”

“I’m fine.”

“Ok,” Weiss said, laying back down but not looking away. “What does it feel like?” she ventured, nodding her head slightly at the gleaming arm.

Yang grimace, blinking up into the pale light for a moment. Then she shrugged and said, “It’s hard to describe, almost natural, but not quite.”

“So it doesn’t hurt?”

Yang shook her head. “No, only when I activate the connection, and that’s getting better over time.”

“How about when you take it off?”

“That doesn’t…hurt, exactly.”

“What does it feel like?”

Yang sighed, finally meeting her friend’s eyes in the gloom. “It feels like losing my arm all over again.”

Weiss had no response to that. Yang went back to fiddling with her hand, closing it and opening and touching each finger to thumb in turn, trying to pretend she was alone. After a time she stood and grabbed her pants, struggling in the tight space to get them on.

“Get some sleep,” she said, reaching for the door as she stomped her feet into her boots. “I’m going to go walk around a bit.” With that she slipped out into the dark hallway, pretending not to notice Weiss’s fretful eyes as they followed her out.

*** * * * ***

Blake followed Coco into the living room, trying to fight off the feeling that she was the shy girl about to be introduced to her new middle school class for judgment.

“Alright everyone, I’m assuming you already know Fiona, since she’s the one that saved our sorry asses. According to Hark, she can vanish into thin air and walk through walls, not to mention lie her way into staying in a mansion for free,” Coco said, unaware of or simply ignoring Blake’s fierce flush as she did. Turning to her she asked, “Anything I missed?”

“Not that I can think of, though you might be overselling my abilities a bit…”

“I don’t have time for false modesty, and I trust Hark’s assessment,” Coco said flatly.

“I…” Blake said, sighing as she tried to think objectively. “I’m also good at surveillance, my hearing and night vision are super sharp, and I can handle most locks and basic security systems,” she said, sighing before adding. “Also, my real name is Blake.”

Sun perked up. “I knew it, Fiona just didn’t fit.”

Coco ignored his input, simply nodding at the new information. “Ok, Blake it is. Any chance you can fly or shoot lasers out of your eyes?”

“No.”

“Shame, thought you might actually be useful,” Coco said with a wink before turning to the rest of the room. “Alright, so that’s what she brings to the table, besides saving all of our lives. How about everyone introduces themselves and tries to convince her she wasn’t wasting her talents.” Blake looked around the room, trying to guess at skillsets before she was told, not overly confident that she was going to be blown away by the dregs that RLIC had left behind.

“I’m Aqua,” said the woman reclining on the couch nearest Blake, offering a sardonic wave. She seemed composed of nothing but long, hard lines and right angles colliding in the shape of a human, making it impossible to guess at her age. Her brilliant teal hair was pulled into a tight ponytail on top and cropped short on the sides, accentuating the sharp edges of a face that could have belonged to a woman of twenty as easily as one past forty. There was more than a hint of danger about her that she seemed quite capable of delivering on with her long limbs and broad shoulders. “Formerly of the Atlesian military, where I was trained as a sapper. RLIC mostly had me figuring out places where a bomb would do the most damage so we could stop anything before it happened, but I haven’t forgotten my roots. If you need something to go ‘boom,' I’m your gal.” Based on the wicked gleam in her eye alone, Blake believed her.

The short, compact woman perched on the arm of the sofa nearby nodded absently while she appraised Blake. She was lean and muscled like a jockey, youthful and cocksure, with eyes that were dark and sharply focused, and short, red hair swept up and back as though by a stiff breeze blowing solely on her. “I’m Carmina,” she said. “The pilot.”

Blake waited for her to elaborate but she apparently felt like she had said enough. The rangy man leaning in the corner next to her shook his head and bared his teeth in a lupine smile. “Ever the poet, Mina,” he said, then jerked a thumb toward his chest. “I’m Jay. Procuring and using anything that shoots, stabs, stuns, or otherwise incapacitates an enemy is my specialty. You need something special you just let me know,” he finished with a wink, his grey eyes flashing beneath his dark and heavy brow.

“I’ll be sure to do that,” Blake said, turning her attention to the opposite side of the room where the gentle giant was sitting. 

“Yatsuhashi,” he said, smiling shyly as Blake nodded affirmation that she recalled, meeting his kind eyes. “But people call me Yatsu.” She assumed he was going to follow up by saying that his skill was the ability to pick up a horse, but was startled when he said, “I’m a tech guy. I’ll find and manage any gadgets we need, monitor chatter on various parts of the web, and handle both hacking and electronic defense.” _There’s a cover that doesn’t even begin to fit that book_ , she thought.

“He can also benchpress a barn, so there’s that,” Coco added when she saw the mystified look on Blake’s face. Yatsuhashi smiled and rubbed the back of his neck, his massive bicep doing little to deny the claim.

“I’m Ivy,” said a girl with the greenest eyes Blake had ever seen. Next to Yatsu, she looked petite, but upon further inspection, she was probably a hair taller than Blake herself. Not to mention her cloud of curly hair added nearly as much height as Blake’s ears. “I handle message encryption and code-breaking, both digital and analog,” she said, her body still except for her restless hands, which continuously tangled with one another and her skirt below before separating and beginning their erratic dance again.

Seeing it was his turn, Sun smiled brightly and waved. “We already met, but I’m Sun, court jester and master of keeping up morale.” When Blake cocked an eyebrow at him he smirked and shrugged.

Coco sighed and looked dramatically toward the ceiling, as though the ceiling beams might explain why she was being punished. “Honestly, why do I bother letting you speak?” she grumbled, mostly to herself. Then she explained, “When he deigned to remove his head from his own ass, Sun was one of the best field agents we had; even before all of the competition was chased out of town or…well, I’d rather not think about the alternative.”

“I just do all the dirty work no one else wants to do,” Sun quipped, winking mischievously at Blake.

Rolling her eyes at his cheek she turned to Hark, certain she would be underwhelmed by the hapless young man, with his narrow, sloping shoulders and soft-looking hands. “I’m Harkin…” he began nervously. “Hark, whichever. I handle intel aggregation and analysis.”

Coco shook her head at the subdued explanation. “Hark will be our eyes and ears. I worked with him a lot before things went to shit, and there was a reason he was stationed here. If something happens in all of Anima it finds its way back to him through one of his sources, and he’ll tell us about it and how we can use it.”

Blake nodded, appropriately impressed. “Glad to know you were worth saving.”

“Yeah…sorry about that,” he said, his head drooping. “I’m not much good at fieldwork.”

“That’s why you do what you do,” Coco said, thumping him on the shoulder as she settled on the arm of the couch.

Blake looked around at the group, sudden anger rising in her chest. “Wait, how do you all know each other so well?”

Coco cocked her head. “We’ve all worked together on ops from time to time. Our handlers wanted us to get to know each other’s skillsets.”

“All of you?” Blake pressed.

“Yeah…” Coco responded, catching her drift. “Except you, I guess. Who did you work with?”

“No one, just Qrow.”

“Huh. You new?”

“I’ve been working here for about six months, give or take.”

Coco shrugged. “Maybe they were just getting you acclimated to the life.”

“Yeah…maybe.”

“Either way, you’re here now, and we’ve all seen what you can do. We’re lucky to have you.”

“What about you?” Blake challenged, realizing she had yet to hear from the leader of the squad.

“Me?” Coco asked, as though it had never occurred to her that she would have to justify her position. “I’m the one who makes the plans.”

“Do you have a plan now?”

“Of course,” she said, grinning as she dangled the bait.

“And that plan is…?” Blake prompted, her need to know outweighing her dislike of such an obvious ploy.

“I thought you’d never ask,” Coco said, springing lightly to her feet and strolling to the center of the room. “It’s simple,” she said, smiling as they all leaned expectantly. “We prevent a global war.”

Blake waited for a few beats before breaking out into laughter, only settling when she looked around and saw no one joining her. “Oh come on! ‘We prevent a global war’? That’s not a plan, that’s not even a mission statement. That’s something a contestant at a beauty pageant might say.”

“You done?” Coco asked.

“Yes, but I really hope you aren’t,” Blake shot back.

“I’m not. Hark, report.”

Hearing his name he stopped flipping through whatever he had been reading on his scroll and tucked it away, taking a deep breath before he looked up at his leader. “Beacon tower being down is still playing hell with information flow, so I can’t be as thorough as I’d like. I could tell you what General Ironwood had for lunch up in Atlas this afternoon but getting information from the western settlements of Anima is difficult and unreliable at best.”

“Stop hedging and get to it.”

Hark settled down, reviewing some internal catalog of information. “Ok, I’ll start with the easy one: Argus, thanks to its strong relay tower, is still easily reachable, as are all points in between here and there. Things up there are tense. The Atlas military base locked down as soon as the announcement about the treaty was made, but other than extra guard patrols there’s been no real movement. They’re likely waiting for either Mistral to make a move or orders from the North.”

“Ok, monitor the situation and keep me updated, otherwise that doesn’t concern us. Next?”

“Most days I can get direct comms out as far as Oniyuri, but everything further out has to either rely on shortwave or physical delivery. Chances are nobody out that way other than our agents know what’s happening, and they probably won’t care so long as it doesn’t affect them.”

“Get to the point, Hark, what’s happening here?”

He nodded. “Frankly, it’s a shitshow, especially for us. Unless a few have gone really deep, we’re the only RLIC agents left alive in Mistral. As far as I can tell, it was never the intention of the Council, or whoever is pushing them to act right now, to let us leave alive, and that fits with the other whispers I’ve heard that some are less surprised than others at the sudden vote.”

“So someone is actively pushing for war?” Coco asked.

“Definitely.”

Coco looked at Blake for a moment, gears almost visibly turning in her sharp mind. Looking back at Harkin she asked, “Any chance the ones pushing are the White Fang?”

He spread his hands and shrugged. “Maybe? I don’t know though, doesn’t fit with the usual White Fang MO, and it would require some extreme form of leverage. Even if they had the money, the last vote in favor, the one who swung the whole thing, was Oliver Oak.”

“That man’s a total bigot, I could never see him working with the White Fang,” Coco said, shaking her head.

“Plus, he’s a bootlicker who kisses Atlas’s ass whenever he can. Probably because he’s gotten several of his key supporters rich off of their trade deals,” Hark added.

“More than a little suspicious. It was a three to one vote, though, how about the other two?” she prompted.

“They’ve raged against the treaty for a while now, and neither has ever turned away money, whether it came from a human or faunus. So either they’re just jumping on an opportunity or they were bought off years ago.”

“Agreed, it could be useful to know about those two, but I want to know everything there is to know about Oak; specifically, what changed his mind all of a sudden.”

“You got it, boss!”

Despite her initial misgivings, Blake found herself impressed at the woman’s commanding nature. It still wasn’t clear if she would be able to back up her bravado, but she at least knew how to use her team. She was also looking directly at Blake as though expecting something.

“Sorry, what did you say?” Blake asked, blushing as she realized she had spaced out.

“I asked you about the intel you claimed to have back at the last hideout. It might be pertinent,” Coco repeated, sounding more than slightly annoyed.

“Oh, right,” she replied. “I liberated a few notebooks from underlings of the gangster Lou Beringer. I believe they have details of financial obligations that he and his men were owed, but they’re encoded.”

Coco shrugged. “I’ve heard the name but I fail to see why some gangster’s ledger is important.”

“Qrow thought it was.”

“I’m not asking Qrow, I’m asking you.”

Blake shifted her weight from foot to foot but stood her ground. “It is. Beringer is running guns for the Fang, possibly involved in other things, and shortly before everything kicked off he seemed to know something was coming, though I wasn’t able to find out what,” she said, neglecting to mention the specifics of why. “I was also unable to retrieve anything from his safe, but I believe he may have a similar set of records or even the decryption key in there.”

Coco cocked an eyebrow. “You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you?” she said. “I agree, that does sound interesting. Ivy,” she said, catching the eye of the fidgeting girl who had been staring into her lap. “Get the books from Blake later, I want you to work on decrypting them.”

“Can do,” the girl said quietly, her hands an excited blur.

“Got anything else for me superstar?” Coco asked Blake.

“The group, or at least one of the groups, hunting us is a mercenary band,” she said.

“How do you know?”

“I followed them after helping Hark,” she admitted. “They’re staying in a warehouse on the middle level.”

“Anything else?”

“Nope, that’s it, couldn’t see who they were or what symbol they wore.”

“Hark?”

“On it.”

“A,” Coco said, beginning to subtly groove to the beat of her own plan as she turned to the sapper. “I want you to get in touch with any old friends you have from Atlas, specifically ones still in the military. Can you do that?”

“Sure thing, boss.”

“I don’t care if they’re grunts or high-level commanders, I need to know what they’re thinking, what the mood is.”

“Sounds more like a Hark thing, isn’t there something to blow up?”

Coco smiled. “There will be soon, you can count on that,” she said. “But Hark already has his hands full, and getting information out of the army from his sources may get more difficult as things ramp up.”

“I’m on it,” Aqua said, kicking back on the couch and putting her feet up on the coffee table in front of her now that her role was determined.

“Mina?”

“Ma’am?” the fiery pilot mocked with a sloppy salute.

“Knock it off,” Coco said, smiling despite herself. “We need wings. I want at least one ship that can hold all of us fueled and ready. If shit goes sidewise I want us to be able to get to it and airborne from here in less than fifteen minutes.”

“Done.”

“After that report back, I’ll likely have more work for you.”

“Naturally.”

“Yatsu, I want this house and yard wired with everything you can think of. If anyone so much as sneezes on our front gate, I want to know. When you’re done with that I want you to focus on stockpiling.”

“Stockpiling what?”

“General ops gear, focus on surveillance, but I trust you to keep us spec’d.” The big man nodded as she turned to her next assignee. “Jay, do I even need to say it?”

“Weapons?” he offered, smiling his predator’s smile.

“Bingo, as many as you can smuggle in here without making the neighbors nervous. Take Aqua with you so she doesn’t get bored and start blowing things up,” she said, laughing as the accused opened an eye to half-heartedly glare at her. Turning to Blake she faltered for a moment, an order had clearly occurred to her and she needed a moment to rephrase it as a request.

“I’m assuming you’ll be going after Beringer and the White Fang?” she asked.

“Yes,” Blake said. “I’ll keep you posted if I learn anything useful.”

“I don’t suppose you’ll take backup?”

“No, though I could use some help getting past a hidden alarm on a safe.”

“Yatsu can help you with that, Sun?” she said, shifting focus. “Can you check out the hideout for these mercs? Maybe if you behave, Blake here will be kind enough to show you where it is. Anything you learn, report it back to Hark; I really want to know who’s trying to kill us.”

Her sarcastic aside had sounded an awful lot like an order, but Blake let it slide; it was on the way to where she was going anyhow. Rather than pushing back, she looked at the leader of their odd little group. “What about you?”

“Me?” Coco asked, smiling broadly and rubbing her hands together. “I’m going shopping.”


	10. Boats and Burglary

Weiss staggered toward the galley, allowing the smell of coffee to guide her through the dim hallway. She must have fallen back asleep at some point, but the exhaustion dragging at her limbs did not speak to a particularly restful night, and the flashes of unpleasant dreams that still lingered in her mind confirmed it.

The sounds of footsteps and shouted orders above told her the sailors had long since begun their day, and when she reached her destination she found only Yang and the cook, both of them laughing hysterically over some ribald tale he’d no doubt just finished.

“Morning,” Yang said to her, smiling as though all were right in the world. “How’d you sleep?”

Weiss decided to play along, smiling and replying that she had slept quite well, thank you, and graciously accepting the steaming mug and plate she was offered as she sat. She had nearly finished her salty meal by the time the captain strolled through, requesting a refill of his thermos from the cook, who quickly obliged. “How are you two enjoying sea life?” he asked.

“No complaints,” Yang said. “The views are pretty great.”

“Aye,” he agreed, a distant look entering his eye like a rolling thunderhead. “I never get tired of watching the sun rise over the open water.” After a moment he shook himself and offered a wry grin. “Sorry, I get a little softhearted first thing in the morning. Since you’re here, may as well update you: if the weather reports I’ve got are correct we should be in for smooth sailing all the way to Hamanashi. Shouldn’t take more than two and a half days before you two are back on solid land.”

“Perfect,” Weiss said. “And thank you again.”

But the old captain waved her off. “Don’t thank me, Missy, you paid fair and square, even if you did let me swindle you on the price.” With a wink and a grin, he strode out of the small galley, searching for the nearest slacking sailor to holler at. Weiss shook her head and laughed, rising to return her dishes to the cook’s station. With a nod toward the hatch she suggested they go above, and Yang agreed without complaint.

It was crisp up on deck. The summer sun wasn’t yet warm enough to overpower the chill carried along by the strong ocean breeze, meaning Weiss couldn’t reasonably say anything about Yang’s ever-present jacket, even though she suspected it had nothing to do with fending off the cold. They shared a few peaceful minutes watching the water break around the prow of the ship, but Weiss found herself unable to hold her tongue.

“Yang…about last night,” she began.

“Don’t.”

“But-“

“I’m fine,” Yang insisted.

“No, you’re not,” Weiss said, putting a hand on her friend’s shoulder when she tried to turn away. “And that’s ok. No one is expecting you to just be fine after everything that happened.”

“Yeah well, maybe I expect that.”

Weiss shook her head. “That’s not fair, Yang. Would you expect me to be fine if we switched places?”

“I…no.” Yang sighed. “But it’s not just that. Ruby needs me.”

“She does, you’re right,” Weiss agreed. “And I’ll try not to press you on this, but I need you to know two things: first, that I know you’re not ok, so please don’t lie to me,” she said, waiting for Yang to meet her eyes and nod before she went on. “And second, I’m going to be here for you whenever you are ready to talk, no matter how long it takes for you to get there.” Yang regarded her silently, a hint of anger flaring in her eyes at the unwanted offer. Weiss held firm under the gaze, hoping that Yang could feel that there was no accusation there, only love and a wish to help. Finally, she nodded her thanks, her lips tight and not quite smiling, and then turned her conflicted eyes back out to sea. Weiss breathed a sigh of relief, only for it to be interrupted by a sudden rise and plunging drop of the deck beneath her feet. Looking out she saw they had run into a patch of rather intimidating swells, despite the sky overhead still shining clear and blue.

A second rise and fall brought with it a grating screech from the mast beside them, and Weiss looked up to see a large spotlight that had been mounted there dangling precariously. A third swell hit before she could think to move and sheered the tenuous last connection, and sending the whole thing plummeting directly toward the wide-eyed woman.

Weiss froze. Like a deer in headlights, she stared at her impending doom, her mind empty of any reasonable response. She was jolted back to her senses when Yang looped her left arm around her shoulder, pulling her close and pivoting them both to the side as her right flashed overhead. At the last possible second her knuckles dug into the leading edge of the falling spotlight, knocking it toward the rear of the boat and shattering the plexiglass lens in the process.

For a few stunned moments, Weiss huddled against the leather-clad form, the back of her head gently cradled in the palm of the hand that had just batted aside the plummeting hunk of metal like a toy. She tilted her chin up, watching as Yang’s fierce eyes clouded over, fire fading to concern when she realized Weiss was looking at her. “Are you ok?” she asked.

“Yeah, thanks to you,” Weiss said, stepping out of her friend’s arms and looking at the wreckage behind them in awe. “That was amazing.”

“Yeah, it was something,” Yang mumbled, the set of her jaw not as triumphant as one would expect. Slowly she pulled off her scuffed glove to examine her hand, but it shone as perfectly as it had moments before, not so much as a hint of damage from its encounter with the spotlight, which looked far worse for the wear.

As she was examining her fist, several sailors came running, terror in their eyes when they saw the wreckage. When it was clear that neither woman was hurt a cheer went up, and those who had seen the whole thing ran over to ask Yang how she had done it. Before she could explain that it had just been luck a voice rose from the crowd examining the falling light.

“Bloody hell, look at this!”

Everyone turned and found Johannes holding up the remains of the spotlight, struggling under its weight as he swung it around so everyone could see what he was looking at: a deep set of grooves that looked exactly like knuckles buried deep in the metal frame.

Yang sighed and rolled up her sleeve, holding out her gleaming arm for the stunned crew to see. “Lucky for us, I’m not exactly standard issue,” she said, making an obvious effort to inject humor into her words. Weiss could see the haunted look just behind her eyes but didn’t say anything. She wasn’t going to complain about progress.

“By the Brothers!”

“Can I touch it?”

“Where’d you get it-?”

“That’s enough you lazy dogs!” the captain called out above their rising voices. “These ladies should be calling for the heads of whoever did such a piss poor job of checking that light, not answering your pestering questions. Someone clean this up and get the replacement mounted, now. The rest of you, get back to work!” His men scrambled to do as they were told while the captain rubbed his scruffy chin and regarded his passengers, barely contained questions swirling about his eyes like the currents of the water below. “We should let these fools get things squared away,” he said. “Mind joining me for a drink?”

Weiss looked at Yang, who seemed to be debating whether to roll her sleeve back down or roll the left one up to match before finally deciding on the latter. Crossing her arms and shrugging she finally muttered, “Sure.”

“We’d love to,” Weiss added, smiling graciously. 

\--

Yang refused to acknowledge the numerous sidelong glances and, in some cases, open stares she received as she and Weiss followed the captain up to his quarters. She was still trying to figure out how she felt about the sailors' reaction to her arm and refused to let anything show through until she did. She was relieved when the captain showed them into a small sitting room that adjoined his quarters and closed the door behind them, shutting out the curious crew.

Upon entering Yang realized that small didn’t do it justice. It was hardly big enough for the table with its four chairs and a small cabinet that was soon revealed to hold numerous bottles of liquor from all over Remnant. The captain waved for them to sit and pulled out a few glasses that he set on the table before hunting through the offerings on hand.

“I’m not sure we’ve been properly introduced,” he said, placing a few bottles on the table and removing his cap. “Captain Reginald Silvermane, at your service,” he said with a hint of self-deprecation at the grandiose introduction as he replaced his cap and sat.

“Yang Xiao Long.”

“Weiss…” she began, hesitating.

The captain chuckled. “Wouldn’t be much of a cargo man if I couldn’t recognize a Schnee,” he said with a wink, laughing harder as her eyes went wide. “But don’t worry, the men haven’t figured it out, and I won’t be telling anyone.”

“When did you recognize me?” Weiss asked.

“I’m embarrassed to say not until you’d already taken my shirt in that deal we made,” he said. “But as soon as I saw you with Lien in your hands I couldn’t help thinking you looked a lot like your old man.”

“Please don’t remind me,” Weiss groaned.

This drew another bark of a laugh from the captain. “I knew I liked you, and don’t worry, that’s the last I’ll mention of it. Now how about drinks?” When his guests nodded eagerly he grabbed one in particular and poured a small glass of the pale amber liquid. “A nice Atlesian sherry for Miss…” At a pointed look from his guest he quickly course-corrected, “Weiss?”

“That sounds lovely, thank you,” she said, accepting the glass.

“And can I assume that only that fancy accessory of yours is made of metal, or do you drink motor oil, same as your bike, Miss Xiao Long?”

“Yang is fine, and I generally only drink motor oil as a last resort,” she retorted.

The captain winked and poured from a different bottle. “How about a little Whiskey from Patch then? Only comes in small batches, that, but I find it has a real nice, rustic flavor.”

Yang smiled despite herself as she accepted the tumbler. “How did you know?”

“Please, I’ve been everywhere. You Patchies have a certain walk you don’t see anywhere else, spotted you almost as quickly as I saw the mark of Atlas on this one.”

“Fair enough.”

The captain poured a final, dark liquid for himself from a dusty old bottle, setting it aside and raising his glass. “To boring travels with interesting travelers,” he said.

They were all happy to drink to that, and after they all had a chance to savor their first taste, the captain placed his cup on the table. “So,” he began. “You two going to share what brings you onto my ship or are you going to make me beg?”

Yang shrugged uncomfortably. “We need to get to Anima and there aren’t a lot of options for that right now.”

Silvermane rolled his eyes. “Aye, Miss, I gathered that much, and I think you know that wasn’t my question. Anima’s dangerous these days, especially where I’m dropping you off. Now, after what I saw, I’ve no doubt you can take care of yourselves, but I still figure whatever it is must be mighty important.”

“It is,” Yang said, not offering more. She contemplated leaving it there, but Weiss soon looked ready to jump in, so she took another sip of the fiery whiskey and explained, “We’re looking for someone. She went missing.”

“Hm,” the captain said, seeing the truth of it in the downward cast of the women’s faces at the mention of their mission. “And with Beacon Tower down you can’t exactly call, is that it?”

“More or less,” Weiss said.

“This person must be very special to you.”

“She is,” they said in unison, drawing a low laugh from the captain.

“Well then, I wish the best of luck to you on your search,” he said, raising his glass again before taking a swig. “Though I’m not sure you’ll need it. Where did you get that contraption on your arm, young Miss?” he asked.

“It’s not on my arm, it is my arm,” she corrected, swirling her drink distractedly as she did.

Silvermane let out a low whistle. “And here I thought I’d seen everything,” he said as looked at her with newfound curiosity. “I bet that’s a hell of a tale.”

“Not really,” Yang said, staring at the spinning liquid in her drink as though divining something of great importance. Unsatisfied with the results, she set her glass down hard, though not quite hard enough to crack it. “My arm got shot, amputated, and then I built a new one. The end,” she said, her eyes hard and her cheeks an explosion of red.

But the old captain wasn’t deterred, taking her sharp words in stride with an understanding shake of his head. “The story was poorly told but fascinating nonetheless. Sounds like it’s still fresh and covered in rough edges, but I hope someday our paths cross again once time has worked its magic and rubbed it smooth, made it easier to handle. You see, when I was about your age,” he said, reaching down and unlacing his boot. “I had a story of my own, one I could tell in a single sentence, and one that left me just as raw.” With that he pulled off his boot, revealing a simple spring-loaded hunk of plastic and metal where his foot should have been.

After a moment Yang found she couldn’t help herself. “What happened?” she asked quietly.

“I was just a deckhand back then, working the big winch that’s used to pull in the boat when it docks,” he said, slipping his boot back on as he did. “I was too busy horsing around with one of my pals and talking about the ladies of whatever port we were pulling into to notice that the loose cable had looped around my ankle. By the time it caught it was too late to stop, but my buddy at least tried, probably saving my life. I blacked out, but when I came to some doctor was explaining how my foot had gotten caught in the mechanism, nothing much left to save so they hadn’t tried.

“I thought my life was over. No more work at sea, no more work at all as far as I could tell. But then my bills piled up and they stopped letting me drink on credit at the local bar, so I strapped a piece of metal way less fancy than yours to my leg and got on with it.”

“I…you don’t even walk with a limp,” Yang said.

“Thirty years of practice will do that, young Miss. I daresay you don’t seem to struggle too much with your situation either.”

She looked at her hand again, trying to see it in this new light. “I guess.”

“And did you say you built it yourself?” he prodded.

Yang smiled. “I had some help, but yeah, she’s a one of a kind of my own making.”

“Well, ain’t that something?” he said, polishing off his drink with a flourish. “Another round?” he asked.

Yang nodded, then looked over at Weiss, who up until that point had been silent but keenly present. “Another for me as well,” she said, smiling at their host.

After he filled their glasses they raised them once again. “To getting the fuck on with it!” He declared.

“Hear, hear!” Yang said, her smile not quite reaching her eyes.

She wasn’t much in the mood to talk after they left the captain’s quarters to wander the deck, and Weiss quietly respected her wishes. More than once Yang caught her subtly smiling at her exposed arm, but neither commented on it. Still, she found herself less upset than before when she caught sailors openly gaping, and even favored a few of them with a sardonic wink when she did.

Her reticence lasted until dinner, when several of the crew members couldn’t keep their thoughts to themselves anymore and they began peppering her with questions about it, several eventually challenging her to an arm-wrestling match to test its strength.

After refusing several times, she finally caved, and one of the small tables in the galley was cleared. A sailor who was easily a foot taller and twice as wide as Yang sat down, rolling up his sleeve to reveal a heavily tattooed and equally heavily muscled arm beneath. The two clasped hands and several members of the crew fought for limited viewing space while the cook counted down to the start.

Neither pushed full force when they were kicked off, the large sailor smiling at what he thought a clever ploy, and Yang simply wary of breaking his arm. Soon, though, the challenger's face started reddening and the veins in his forehead began to stand out against his taut skin. All the while Yang simply looked curious. Some of the strain was making its way up to her shoulder, but with a good leverage point on the table the arm was taking most of the force, and assuming the feedback was accurate, she had plenty more to give. So she advanced an inch.

The man’s eyes widened at the motion and he frantically began to push in earnest, gritting his teeth as he tried to regain the middle.

Yang advanced again.

Panting, the man turned his hips and shoulders, trying to put his bulk into his efforts. Yang was nearly lifted from the table before she grabbed its bottom edge with her left hand to hold herself steady.

Then she slowly, inexorably, lowered his hand to the table to the cheering delight of the men standing around them, some of them exchanging Lien as she did. For the length of the applause, Yang was back in the ring, bowing for her fans after scoring another bombastic knockout. Several others begged to try their luck, but they were shouted down by the crowd, everyone who had seen the display certain of the results. Yang’s concession was to pass through and shake everyone’s hand, gamely squeezing each until its owner begged for mercy.

\--

Weiss watched silently from the corner, smiling slightly despite her initial hesitance at the primitive competition. It had been nice to see a little bit of fire from her friend. She may never have witnessed one of her fights, had never thought she’d want to (the very thought was barbaric), but something about the fierce glint in Yang’s eyes as she won and celebrated her victory had felt…right.

While the crew spilled back out on the deck, sweeping Yang along with them, the captain crept in to grab dinner. Weiss had remained behind and noted his small smile as he came in. “Not going to break that up?” she asked him, knowing full well he wouldn’t.

“Ah, let ‘em have their fun,” he said, taking his bowl of stew and tucking into it while standing in the corner. “They’ll have a new tall tale to tell when they stop at the next port, and I daresay your friend needed that.”

Weiss hummed her agreement and the captain bid her goodnight as he took his dinner back to his waiting duties. Yang swaggered back into the galley, alone and flushed, a big, giddy smile lighting up her face.

“Way to go champ,” Weiss said as she watched her flop down on a stool.

“Ha ha,” Yang said, rolling her eyes but still grinning broadly. “I figured if I didn’t give in they’d just spend the next few days pestering me.”

“Uh-huh, totally.”

Yang shook her head at Weiss’s knowing smile, looking down while she drew lazy circles on the table with a black and yellow finger. Her earlier silence settled back around her like a heavy cloak, but Weiss could see the corners of her mouth tugging ever so slightly upward.

A few hours later, when they were back in their small cabin and readying themselves for bed, Yang’s triumphant mood noticeably soured. Before Weiss could question why Yang had thrown herself into bed and asked for the light to be turned off. Weiss nodded her understanding and reached for the switch. She held out her hand, receiving the expected burden after the increasingly familiar sounds of release. She had placed the arm in the rack and slid into bed where Yang was already facing the wall and doing her best to simulate the deep breathing of someone fast asleep. Weiss took the hint and left her alone, but she waited until the rise and fall of the ribs pressed up against her own felt more natural before allowing herself to drift off.

*** * * * ***

“That’s the place?” Sun asked, peeking over the edge of the roof at the warehouse a few blocks away.

“Yeah,” Blake said, getting up to move on. “Have fun.”

“You sure you don’t want me to come with?”

“You have your own assignment,” she said. “And I’m just going to scope things out, I don’t need backup for that.”

Not giving him a chance to argue, she took two sprinting strides and leaped for the roof of the slightly taller building next door, just catching the edge with her fingers and hauling herself up and over. They had waited for the sun to set before they left, so while it wasn’t yet late, Blake had no trouble moving unseen across the twilit rooftops on her way to Beringer’s place. By the time she arrived, night had well and truly fallen, but her eyes cut through the shadows with ease as she crouched on the balcony of one of his neighbors. Either no one lived there anymore or they were out, but either way, the house behind her was silent as she sat and watched and waited for her quarry.

Finally, he emerged, flanked by a couple of beefy goons in suits with a new woman on his arm and looking hale and hearty again. It was an odd relief to know that she hadn’t done him any permanent harm, beyond ruining a relationship, perhaps. Not that he seemed overly perturbed by that. As the posse walked the streets she ghosted along behind them, doing her best to stay within earshot but prioritizing stealth.

It didn’t take long to recognize his route; he was heading for the Liberalia. Sure enough, when they rounded the final corner they cut straight for the flashing lights above the entrance, disappearing inside and leaving their shadow cursing in the dark. She couldn’t follow, not dressed as she was and certainly not as Fiona, so she was stuck waiting outside.

Waiting, why was her whole life spent waiting? Even now, when she supposedly had control of what she did and when, here she was, waiting. Was that all she had to look forward to? An eternity of looking forward to a someday that would never come?

For a moment she felt such an overwhelmingly visceral need to be held that she had to wrap her arms around herself to keep still and bite her lip until it nearly bled to keep silent. She needed the grounding force of Yang’s presence, needed that anchor to bring her back down as her raging emotions threatened to carry her away, but she was alone.

“What are we waiting for?”

Blake whipped her head around to find that she was not, in fact alone. “Sun?” she hissed.

“Yeah, duh,” he said from his perch a few feet away on a ledge above her.

“What are you doing here?”

“I may have followed you from Beringer’s place,” he said, hopping down and approaching her.

“What about your assignment?”

“What about it?” he said with a casual shrug. “I saw some mercs come and go, got a picture of their uniforms, not much else to do. After I texted it to Hark I asked him for Beringer’s address and got there right as you were leaving.”

“I didn’t ask for your help,” Blake said, turning back to the club and willing him away.

“I know, I’m pretty great like that,” he said, settling in beside her and pointedly ignoring her glare as he did so. “You never answered my question, what are we waiting for?”

“You followed me here, you know we’re waiting for Beringer,” she said.

“Yeah, but he’s just going to go to a bunch of places and drink, anything interesting that goes on will be inside the bars, not out here, so…”

“I didn’t ask for your help, remember?”

“Right yeah, sure, let’s just hang out then.”

The worst part was that Blake had been thinking the same thing, and after another half-hour of sitting silently and staring at patrons coming and going she got up with a grunt of disgust. “Fine,” she said. “Let’s go back.”

“Whatever you say!” Sun said brightly, springing from a prone position impossibly through a backflip and up to his feet.

Blake intentionally ignored his acrobatics as she started picking her way back toward their house.

\--

Blake’s dark mood was replaced by panic when the door was answered by a haughty butler in a fine suit with a thin mustache under his prim nose. Her mind raced as she retraced her steps and tried to figure out where she could have gone astray. It was only when the butler burst out laughing at her shocked expression that she realized she’d been played for a fool.

“Coco?!” she cried, which only caused the woman to laugh all the harder as she waved them in and closed the door.

“Not bad, eh?” she said. “I wish you could have seen your face.”

“I still can’t quite believe it’s you,” Blake admitted as she leaned in to examine her.

“Makeup, fake mustache, and the right clothes can do wonders,” she said, and then suddenly her voice dropped nearly an octave and took on a condescending tone. “It helps if you’re also a good actor. Now, if you please come this way, madame?”

“So when you said you were going shopping?”

“I meant it,” Coco said, peeling off the mustache and unpinning her hair. “Disguises are my thing, other than plans of course, so I picked up some stuff that I thought would be useful. I got a few things for everyone else just in case. Your stuff is in the room where you left your bag. If anything doesn’t fit let me know, I’m a whiz with a needle and thread.”

“Noted,” Blake said, honestly impressed. “And thank you. Do you know where Yatsu is?”

“Should be up in his room, probably working.”

“Thanks again!” she said before heading up the stairs.

“Blake?” Coco called after her, stopping her at the first landing. “Learn anything?”

“No,” Blake said, shaking her head.

“No worries, we’re just getting started.” Blake nodded, feeling the dismissal in the reassuring statement. She continued her climb as Coco turned to interrogate Sun, who relayed that he’d already reported to Harkin before Blake reached the next level and the floor blocked out what they were saying.

Sure enough, she found Yatsu tapping away on his computer, with the accompaniment of Ivy sprawled across his still-made bed, hanging her head with its voluminous hair off the side and reading one of the journals Blake had stolen while holding it upside-down. Knocking gently on the doorframe and waiting for Yatsu to look up she stepped just inside the threshold. “Hey,” she said. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”

“Not at all,” the big man said with a friendly smile, rubbing the exhaustion of staring at a screen from his eyes. “I’m just checking some sensors and Ivy’s working on those books of yours. She likes the sound of typing, says it helps her find patterns.” The codebreaker didn’t look up, simply humming her agreement as she continued scanning the pages in front of her. “Anyway, what can I do for you?”

“What do you know about security systems?” Blake asked.

“Quite a lot, since I just finished setting up ours, but I’m assuming this is more about circumventing a security system.”

“Yeah, there’s a safe I need to crack. I can do the combination lock myself, even know the first two numbers already, but there’s apparently a silent alarm built into it that will trigger when I open it.”

Yatsuhashi grimaced. “Silent alarm doesn’t really tell me much, it could be based on so many things: light, pressure, torque on the hinge, who knows? Also, where does this silent alarm go? Is there a security guard who watches it? Some sort of automated system that activates? What are we talking about here?”

“I…don’t know,” Blake said, feeling completely out of her depth.

To her surprise, rather than telling her to go do some damn research, Yatsu sat back and stared at the ceiling in thought. “We don’t really have time to answer most of those questions,” he said, mostly to himself. Looking at Blake he asked, “Is the goal to steal it without him knowing he was robbed?”

She considered this. “Honestly, he would know once he opened the safe anyway, and I’m kind of in a hurry, so I can live with him knowing,” she said. “So long as he doesn’t know until I’m gone.”

“Right,” Yatsu said. “Then I may have an idea. Let’s go talk to Aqua.”

\--

Blake was back on the balcony opposite Beringer’s place, watching as he departed for yet another night on the town. Rather than follow him, however, this time she sat and watched as he rounded the corner and disappeared from view before nimbly picking her way down to the ground and flitting across the street to his house. She vaulted his largely ceremonial wall in one fluid motion and crouched down in its shadow as she assessed the possible entrances into his home. Sun was off with Carmina securing transport for them, so there was little worry of her being followed. Regardless, she was still uncomfortable with how much involvement she had from the others, a fact she was reminded of when her earpiece sparked to life.

“You in?” Yatsuhashi asked.

“Just inside the wall,” she whispered, pitching her voice as low as possible.

“Ok, keep me posted.”

“Will do.”

They had discussed several potential ways in, but the one they had agreed on was the chimney. Blake was less than thrilled at the idea, but couldn't deny that such places were most often overlooked when designing security systems. They didn’t have the time or resources to disable the security twice just so she could climb through a window. Chimney it was.

The side of the building was rife with decorative ivy trellises, balconies, and windows. Climbing all of that was trivial for Blake, and as soon as she was sure no one was around to watch she scaled the ornamentation to the roof. The chimney was small, but Yatsu had pulled up plans for the house and assured her it was wide enough for her to pass. Definitely not wide enough for him to pass, but then most doors struggled with that task.

Taking a deep breath she hopped up and sat on the stone edge of the chimney, swung her legs into the narrow chute, and began pressure walking her way down inside. Outside it was dark, but with her night vision, Blake could see as though it were a cloudy day. Inside the shaft, it was true dark, and being able to see by faint light didn’t help much when there was none.

With solid walls close on all sides and no light besides the receding square of night sky above her, Blake had to fight not to feel like she was burying herself alive. She focused on the cool, rough surface under her hands, on the sound of lightly whistling wind as it passed over the top of the chimney. Soon her feet bumped into the dampers, closed at the moment since no fire was lit in the hearth. Awkwardly she reached down with the toe of her boot, grimacing and praying that Yatsuhashi had been right about the mechanism. She had to stifle a cry of delight when she found he was, and flicked the small handle up with her toe, rotating the metal flap up. The opening left to her was slightly narrower than the rest of the chimney, but by blowing out all of her breath and letting her ribs flex just a little she squeezed through, landing silently in the cold fireplace below.

The dim light of the den was almost blinding after the darkness of the chimney, but as Blake looked around and her eyes adjusted she confirmed that she was alone. She crab-walked out of the dirty fireplace, standing upright once she was clear and stretching briefly to loosen up her cramped limbs. She turned to leave the room and stopped short when she was confronted by a dark silhouette. Shock turned to giddy mirth when she realized she was frozen in front of her own soot-covered reflection. She was still stifling a laugh as she crept down the hall, though given how silent the house was she likely could have skipped and still gone unnoticed.

“Blake?”

“Sorry, I’m in,” she said, recalling that others were involved in her caper.

“Ok, Aqua is in position. Remember, after she cuts the power we expect the emergency system to come on in two minutes, give or take. If you’re out by then they may not notice, but more importantly, you’ll have a head start, so don’t dally.”

“I won’t, entering the office now.”

Blake looked around the empty room, then stopped and listened at the door for longer than she might have otherwise. She was still furious Qrow had caught her unawares the last time, and Sun’s capacity to sneak up on her at will was even worse, so she wasn’t taking any chances. After she was positive she was alone, she checked once more, then took her position at the safe. As she had hoped, the first two numbers of the combination had remained unchanged, and after she heard the second subtle click of the tumblers settling into place, she leaned back.

“Now,” she whispered.

Most people think an empty house is silent. Alone in a room, one may stand and listen and think they hear nothing. This may have been true once, long ago, but no longer. Every house is alive with a thousand tiny sounds, but they’re all so constant and omnipresent that few ever notice them. Refrigerators hum as their compressors cool the contents within, water flows through plumbing, the very electricity running through the wall emits a constant buzz that is just at the edge of audible, even if your ears are sharp as a cat's. There is no silence anymore. Ever.

Until the power goes out.

There were no lights on in the room to flicker off and tell Blake that she was clear, but the sudden descent into true silence, the rush of relief from the ceaseless tension caused by those constant sounds, told her to proceed before the voice in her ear did.

She slowly turned the dial and found she had no trouble listening to the well-oiled mechanism within. Her concentration was broken by Yatsu’s voice announcing thirty seconds had passed, but by then she’d found the final digit, and while he spoke she proudly opened the safe. Inside were stacks of folders as well as several tiny data drives. In the middle of it all, as though a spotlight was on it, was the final small, black book. Blake reached in and grabbed it, quickly tucking it away in her bag. For a moment she considered taking something else, but she wasn’t sure where to start and someone was telling her to leave.

_Wait, what?_

“Blake, you need to get out of there, the guard just went inside.”

“What? How do you know that?”

“Aqua circled back to keep a lookout. Get out!”

She quickly eased the safe shut and slipped out the nearby window. Before she could reach up and close it behind her she heard a door snap shut, followed by footsteps in the hall inside. She froze as the footsteps entered the room she had just left, a flashlight dancing through the window above her head and lighting up the shrub mere feet from where she crouched. The guard approached the open window and stood right above her, muttering about useless utility companies and power outages.

All he had to do was lean out, just a hair, and look down. Blake was completely exposed, there was nowhere for her to hide, and he was so very close. Instead, the power came back on, bringing with it the many sounds of a supposedly quiet home, all deafening after the brief window of true silence. With one last curse for the useless louts in charge of the grid, the guard slammed the window and stomped back into the house, and Blake allowed herself to breathe. She wasted no time in leaving the premises, simply vaulting the nearest wall and running a few blocks until she was clear.

“You good?” Yatsu asked.

“Yeah, I’m out,” Blake said, panting. “Tell Aqua I didn’t want her to risk herself like that. I can take care of myself.”

“The only thing I’m telling Aqua is that you said thank you.”

“Fine, thank you, both of you.”

“Did you get it?”

“Yeah, I got it.”


	11. Unfamiliar Waters

Yang woke with the sun feeling far more refreshed after a night’s sleep than she could recall being in quite a while. Gingerly she rolled herself over and, since Weiss was still sound asleep, eased herself up and over her still form to stand in the small space beside their minuscule bed. She immediately reached for her arm, gritting her teeth as she activated it but pleased when it felt more like a needle than an ice pick being driven into her nerves. It still wasn’t the most pleasant way to start her morning, but it was definitely tolerable. She rolled her shoulder while the echo of pain faded, dressed, and crept out into the hallway. She picked her way up to the deck and into the blinding morning sun, throwing on her aviators to gaze out over the endless expanse of shimmering water on what she was pretty sure was the port side of the boat.

“Never do get tired of this view,” the captain said, sidling up next to her as she leaned out over the side.

“I believe it,” she replied.

“Most who grew up land-bound get agitated when they see so much water, but I guess you Patchies are used to it.”

Yang smiled, looking off toward the horizon. “In some ways yes, others no. From my house, all you could see were trees for miles, but my parents used to take us on hikes out by the water. Growing up somewhere so small had a way of making the ocean seemed even more vast,” she said, laughing as a particular memory came to mind. “My little sister cried the first time she saw it.”

The captain chuckled along with her. “I’ve seen grown men and women cry when they wake up for the first time in the middle of the sea. Most from fear. Some from joy and a newfound sense of belonging, but those are the ones who stick around and make a life of it.”

“What about those of us who don’t?”

“You don’t all fall into neat categories. Some are too thick to be afraid, think nothing can hurt ‘em, so why worry?” Nodding at her arm he went on, “I don’t think you’re one of them, nor do I think you’re so closed-minded that you can’t see past the tip of your own nose. No, I think you’re just one of those who respects the sea without fearing it and knows that your place is elsewhere. Nothing wrong with that, young Miss.”

Yang sagged against the rail slightly, looking down at the wake being churned up alongside the boat. “Maybe, but it sure would be nice to know where that place is.”

The captain let out a guffaw, clapping her firmly on the back. “You sound like me at your age and every other young ’un for that matter. Always want to know where you’re going before you’ve even set sail. You’ve got your mission, let that do you for now.”

“But what about when it’s over?”

“Find another one.”

“You say that like it’s easy.”

“That’s because it is if you don’t get ahead of yourself. Worry about what comes next when it’s time, see where this takes you first,” he said, pushing off of the handrail. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I really should get back to yelling at my crew for standing around jawin’ instead of working.” With a wink of his eye and a tip of his cap, he strode off, leaving Yang to her wrestle with her churning uncertainty.

Weiss joined her sometime later, yawning expansively and rubbing the sleep from her eyes as she followed Yang’s gaze out over the horizon. “Lien for your thoughts?”

Yang sighed heavily, taking her time to weigh which one she was willing to part with. “I’m just worried about her.”

“Me too,” Weiss agreed, reaching out and grasping her shoulder firmly. “But we’re going to find her and bring her home.”

Yang turned and held her gaze for a long moment, then nodded.

Weiss gave her another squeeze before tilting her head toward the nearest hatch. “Come on, let’s get some breakfast.”

“Yeah…ok,” Yang said, following her in.

\--

Coffee and greasy food lifted their spirits considerably. They passed the rest of the day chatting and joking with various crew members who were as eager as they were for distraction to break up the otherwise monotonous day. Time passed them by this way in fits and starts, dragging along before startling them when it dropped the sun below the horizon without warning, leaving them to ready themselves for bed despite seemingly just having left it.

“Gods, I can’t believe we arrive in Anima tomorrow,” Yang said, reclining on the small cot for lack of anywhere else to sit.

Weiss joined her, tucking her feet under herself as she claimed the far corner. “I know, I haven’t been in ages,” she said, noting her friend’s expression as she did. “Wait, have you ever been to Anima?”

“I…no, not exactly,” Yang admitted.

“And you were saying you didn’t need me.”

“Whatever, I can read a map, I would have figured it out!”

“I have no doubt you could have,” Weiss said, trying to hide her smug smile. “But I still think you’ll be glad to have me along.”

“I…” Yang began, then thought better of it. “I guess I already am, kind of,” she said finally.

“I know,” Weiss said, no longer making any effort to disguise her victorious grin.

Yang snorted. “That’s what I get for being nice to you. I won’t make that mistake again.”

They both laughed, but the mood quickly settled as they remembered what arriving meant. “So how are we supposed to find this guy again?” Weiss asked finally.

Yang shrugged. “The dude who gave me the letter said to go to the first inn we see and get a room. My uncle’s…coworker will find us and tell us what he knows.”

“And what if he doesn’t show?”

“We get a map and go to Shion.”

“And then what?”

“I don’t know! Do you?”

“I…” Weiss began, faltering as she accepted the truth. “No,” she admitted quietly. “But we’ll figure it out, together,” she offered.

“Yeah,” Yang agreed. “Now let’s get some sleep. I wouldn’t count on things getting much more restful from here.”

“At least I won’t have to share a bed with you anymore.”

“You’ll miss it when there aren’t any beds for miles.”

Weiss rocked her head back and forth, seeming to weigh the two as a smirk alighted on her face. “Will I though?”

Yang laughed, unconsciously reaching up and fiddling with the controls on her arm. As it released her eyes widened and she shrank back against the wall. Holding it in place and not meeting Weiss’s eyes she jerked her head toward the light switch.

“Yang, it’s ok-“

“Please…don’t,” she said, still looking away.

Weiss stood and turned off the light, listening as Yang got up and put it away before laying down and rolling toward the wall, clearly done speaking.

“Goodnight, Yang,” Weiss said softly as she climbed into bed, expecting nothing in return and receiving exactly that.

After the prior evening, Weiss had hoped that Yang might let them both sleep through the night again, but she was not so fortunate. Her dreams never seemed to reach the fever pitch of the first night, but they were plenty to leave her talking and thrashing multiple times. Each time Weiss thought to wake her, then decided it best to let her sleep if she could. Most of it was unintelligible, but she was certain she made out a certain absent woman's name more than once.

Yang finally quieted shortly before sunrise, though in the grey, predawn light Weiss could make out tears tracking down her face. As she peered at her friend she must have triggered some primal awareness, and Yang’s arm reached out. Weiss briefly froze, worried that she was going to be struck. Instead, she was surprised as her waist was encircled and she was pulled into a firm embrace.

She struggled for a time to free herself, but she would have had as much luck prizing open a bear trap. Eventually, she gave up and accepted that awkward as it was, it was an improvement to the rest of the evening, so she allowed herself to be lulled into the first real sleep she had gotten all night. When she woke, Yang’s arm still encircled her, but she had managed at some point to roll so they at least were facing the same direction. All in all, it wasn’t so bad until she felt stirring behind her followed by a pair of lips pressing against the back of her neck.

“Hmm, I missed you,” Yang intoned sleepily over her shoulder.

“Yang! Wake up this instant!” Weiss shrieked, her cheeks hot enough that she briefly worried that the pillow would catch fire.

“What…? Oh fuck,” Yang said, her arm pulling back like she’d been bitten while Weiss stood up, smoothing her pajamas and looking everywhere but at the bed. “Weiss, I’m…I’m sorry, I…”

Weiss held up a hand to silence her, closing her eyes and breathing out her discomfort before she trusted herself to speak. “It’s ok, I’m fine, everyone’s fine,” she said, convincing herself as much as Yang. As her embarrassment faded she was able to see that it was nothing compared to what Yang was suffering. She let out the firmly held breath in her lungs and sat down, though she took care to do so on the edge of the bed. “I really am here if you need to talk.”

Yang pulled back, tucking her right arm carefully beneath herself. “I told you, I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Not just about your arm, Yang.”

“I definitely do not want to talk about _her_ ,” she spat.

“You say that, but that’s twice now that you’ve thought you were in bed next to…her.”

“Look,” Yang said, breathing deeply and blinking her eyes furiously. “She left. That’s it. There’s nothing to talk about.”

Weiss watched her for a moment, debating whether or not to press. “Ok, but if you change your mind-“

“I won’t,” Yang said. “Now please just hand me my arm.”

“Ok,” Weiss said, and she did.

*** * * * ***

Blake arrived back at the house expecting everyone to be asleep, but it seemed that the agents of RLIC kept hours very similar to her own. Her first stop was Yatsuhashi’s room, where she thanked the big man properly. Ivy was still there, though at some point she had repositioned to the floor where she lay with her legs straight up in the air, holding one of the journals open with her toes while she scrutinized it. Yatsu shrugged at the silent question in Blake’s eyes and she accepted his answer with a laugh.

“Ivy,” she said, not taking the disgruntled look personally as she held out her newest acquisition.

“For me?” the codebreaker asked, dropping her current project as she scrambled to her feet and accepted it.

“For you,” Blake said with a bemused grin. “I’m going to head to bed, let me know what you find.” When she heard nothing in response she shook her head and waved to Yatsu on her way out.

The sound of the front door opening reminded her she had one more thank you to deliver. Changing course she padded down the stairs to find Aqua in the main entrance. Something about her was different, Blake noted, though it was hard to immediately place. When the woman looked up at her she realized what it was: she was grinning ear to ear, an almost manic glint in her eye.

“What is it?” Blake asked.

“You didn’t hear anything, did you?”

“When…?”

“When the power went out!”

“No…” Blake said, not following at all.

“I used a muffling technique I’ve been working on. I actually blew up one of the nearby transformers; it wasn’t a huge explosion but it certainly shouldn’t have been silent. But unless you were standing right next to it you would have had no idea!”

“Wait, how far away was that from the house?” Blake asked, thinking it must have been quite a distance.

“Couldn’t have been more than fifty yards, tops,” the woman said, nodding as she saw recognition for her genius on Blake’s face.

“Really?”

“Yup.”

“Ok, now I’m impressed.”

“See?!”

Blake nodded, then looked down. “Oh, and…thanks.”

“For…?” Aqua prodded, obviously knowing full well what for.

Blake sighed. “For watching my back, I really appreciate it even though I didn’t ask.”

The sapper shook her head. “You were so close to a proper thank you, but I’ll take it. Have a good night, Blake!”

Blake shook her head, unable to completely hide her sheepish smile as she ascended the stairs. “You too.”

After months of cursing her forced isolation, she was a little surprised at how relieved she was to be alone in her room at last. Perhaps it was the jarring change from near-total solitude to being constantly surrounded, or maybe it was that they weren’t the company she actually sought, but either way she embraced the peace of her lavish room. The ornate mirror on the wall informed her that she was desperately in need of a bath after her excursion, and she shucked her clothes haphazardly as she strode into her room’s extravagant but tasteful bathroom, intending to make full use of the giant tub awaiting her.

An hour later, after nearly falling asleep in the soothing waters, Blake wrapped herself in a plush robe she found in the closet, laughing at the monogram that likely belonged to someone several tax brackets above her. As the water in the tub circled the drain Blake circled the bed; her exhaustion pulling her like the inexorable force of gravity, but her restless mind spinning her descent into a spiral. A knock at the door interrupted the call of sleep and she padded over curiously. Opening the door a crack she found Coco, dressed in her usual casual chic and looking slightly less than thrilled.

“Can we talk?” she asked, striding in when Blake stepped aside and waiting for her to close the door before turning back toward her. “Look,” she began. “You made it clear, you don’t work for me, and that’s fine,” she said, doing an admirable job of convincing them both that she meant what she said. “But you should try to work with us a little more.”

“What are you talking about?” Blake asked, completely mystified.

“That op you pulled tonight? It wasn’t a total success.”

“I know,”

“Do you?”

“I was almost caught, it was really close.”

“I…didn’t even know that part,” Coco said, her eyes flicking grumpily toward the door and whoever had given her an incomplete report. “That’s not what I meant anyway.”

“What did you mean?”

“The journal you found, it doesn’t have any sort of key.”

“What?!”

“Yeah,” Coco said, making a visible effort to keep her tone neutral. “I just talked to Ivy, she’s only skimmed the book but she’s sure there’s no key in there, it’s encoded like all the rest.”

“Fuck,” Blake said, sitting down hard on the chair in front of the ornate vanity mirror.

“Was there anything else in the safe?” Coco asked.

“I…yeah, lots of stuff, but I only grabbed the book,” Blake said. “I didn’t know what else we might need.”

Coco nodded, her eyes hard. “Did you ask Ivy what to look for?” she asked, obviously knowing the answer before she did.

“No-“

“Did you ask Hark?”

“…no.”

“Did you ask Sun to come back you up, run interference if you needed more time?”

“I don’t need backup-“

“Yeah, I’ve heard that one,” Coco said, more than a little edge jutting out into her words before she was able to contain it. Once she had, she went on. “Look, you want to work alone, fine. But if you’re here, at least use the expertise around you. The stunt you pulled tonight? It was actually a decent plan, and if you had taken the time to figure out what you were looking for it would have been a smashing success. Unfortunately, we won’t be able to use it again since no doubt Beringer is going to figure out he was robbed and change his whole security posture.”

“I-“ Blake began, but Coco held up her hand for silence.

“Sorry for the lecture, I’m not your superior officer and it’s not my place, but I just wanted you to know the situation,” she said, then marched toward the door.

“I’m sorry,” Blake said as Coco grasped the handle.

“It’s fine,” she said, sighing heavily as she turned to look back. “Ivy’s the best, she’ll figure out what’s in there.”

“Yeah…ok.”

“Do you have another lead?” Blake shook her head. “Mind helping us out for a bit then?”

She hesitated but realized she had no real excuse. “Sure, what can I do?”

“Get some sleep, we’ll talk at breakfast.”

“Ok.”

“Goodnight, Blake.” 

“Goodnight,” she said, watching the door close behind the departing figure.

When she was alone Blake cast herself on her bed, pulling a pillow over her face. “Fuck!” she shouted into the downy mass, adding a string of foul words to join the first and pouring every ounce of creativity and vehemence she could into their arrangement and expression. When her anger had abated she went through the motions of going to bed, but by the time the sun kissed her cheek through the floor-to-ceiling window, it was clear that sleep had not been interested in sharing the large bed with her. Not that night, anyway. 

\--

The unmistakable smell of bacon wafting up from the kitchen was Blake’s first sign that others were up. The distant sound of sizzling and clattering pans confirmed what her nose already knew, and that message made its way to her stomach. Hunger shoved exhaustion aside and soon she was wending her way down to the bottom floor, following the siren’s song of breakfast.

It seemed she wasn’t the only one to heed its call, as the large kitchen was well populated. In the middle of it all was Yatsuhashi, head down as his giant hands flipped pancakes and cracked eggs with surprising dexterity. Ivy stood at the counter beside him, her nose deep in one of the encrypted journals she held in her right hand while with her left she occasionally grabbed ingredients requested by the chef. A large, sturdy, wooden table stood off to one side of the expansive kitchen, likely where the servants of the house could take their meals out of sight of their masters. Harkin sat one end, silently hunching over a pile of notes, likely a report from one of his many sources, while Jay and Aqua sat at the other. Jay seemed to be laughing at some anecdote or joke of his own design, Aqua shaking her head at him as she drank deeply from the steaming mug of coffee in her hand. She looked up and noticed Blake, setting her cup down and indicating the spot next to her.

“Pull up a chair,” she said, sliding out the one next to her with her foot.

Blake nodded her thanks but stayed standing. “I’ll sit down in a minute, any chance there’s tea around here?”

Aqua’s face did not give her hope, but a tap on her shoulder brought her around to find Sun standing behind her and holding a mug with a string draped over the side. “I found green tea in the cupboard,” he said, offering it to her.

“Oh, thanks,” she said, unsure if she should be mad at his presumption and his habit of sneaking up on her or grateful for the gesture. She settled on a little bit of both and turned back to the table to take the offered seat, missing the slightly crestfallen look on Sun’s face as she did.

“Who’s ready to eat?” Yatsuhashi asked from the stove, laughing and passing around plates when everyone called out that they were.

“Shouldn’t we wait for Mina and Coco?” Jay asked.

Aqua rolled her eyes at his question. “They’ll be down when they’re good and ready.”

“What do you mean?”

“Dude, come on, how can you not know?”

“Know what?” Ivy asked, her eyes not quite focused on them as she wandered over to sit down.

“Yeah, A, know what?” Coco said from the doorway. She looked as perfect as ever, yet Blake couldn’t help but notice a touch of extra color in her cheeks, and just beneath the high collar of her shirt, there might have even been a slight bruise…

“Nothing, boss,” Aqua said, taking the opportunity to examine her coffee cup.

“That’s what I thought,” Coco said, strolling into the kitchen and accepting a plate from Yatsuhashi with a nod of thanks.

A moment later Carmina walked in, looking like she’d just been hit by a hurricane. Her short, red hair was in massive disarray, though in comparison to her pajamas it was neatly coiffed. Taken alongside her glazed eyes, sheepish grin, and slightly off-kilter gait it was pretty clear what she’d been up to.

The whole room turned to look at Coco, who had busied herself digging into the heaping plate in front of her. Halfway through her first mouthful, she realized she was being watched and looked up at the bemused faces of her team. “What?” she demanded. Her glare was met with a chorus of gently mocking “nothing’s” as everyone decided to leave it alone, though there were a number of coughs that sounded suspiciously like snickers when Carmina melted into the seat beside her.

Only Ivy seemed mystified, looking around at everyone else’s obvious understanding as she found a seat and growing frustrated at being left out. “What’s going on-?“ she began, her question interrupted by a Yatsu clearing his throat as he approached the table.

She turned and looked up at him as he placed a plate in front of her, all of the items very deliberately arranged so as not to be touching. “I’ll explain it later, ok?” he said gently.

Ivy narrowed her eyes up at her friend, then looked around at everyone else. “It’s a sex thing, isn’t it?” she ventured.

Through a valiant effort, the rest of the table managed not to erupt in laughter, though Jay was only stopped by Aqua’s bony elbow digging into his ribs at the last moment. Even Coco’s lips quirked up, just a bit, when she turned and saw Carmina covering her mouth as her sides shook.

“Ok, ok,” Yatsu said. “Everyone eat before your food gets cold.”

Coco silently thanked him for the change of subject and then dug in along with the rest. Soon the only topic of discussion was Yatsu’s cooking, and it was one they could all agree on. Blake was slightly dazed to be in the middle of so many people and so much noise outside of her job at the club, and here she wasn’t sure what her role was. She did her best to participate, but she spent most of her energy trying not to think of other large dinner tables and boisterous groups.

“More bacon?” Sun asked, offering her a plate from across the table.

“Oh, uh, no thanks,” Blake said.

Sun shrugged, loading his plate and pretending he wasn’t watching her as he did. “Hey,” he said, obviously fishing for a way to engage her. “How about later we…“ he started, trailing off when he saw Coco stand at the head of the table.

“Alright everybody, settle down,” she said, bringing the chatter to a halt. “Time for updates. Hark, what’s the word?”

Hearing his name, he finally tore his eyes away from his reports. “Well, I’ve got a name for the mercenaries trying to kill us: Death’s Messengers.”

Coco tapped her chin. “I may have heard of them, but honestly all merc groups sound the same after a while. What do we know about them?”

“Honestly? Not much. I’ve had a hell of a time getting anything on them, and as far as I know, RLIC has never had an agent in their ranks. Still, last I heard they were out west raiding villages. I have it on pretty good authority they were recently in Higanbana.”

“That’s pretty far from here, you sure the report is accurate?” Coco pressed.

“I think so,” he said with a shrug. “Maybe they split their forces.”

“So RLIC got wiped out by part of a mercenary band?”

“Surprise is a hell of a thing. But they could have had help,” Sun offered.

Coco nodded, considering this. “Hark?”

“It’s possible,” he said. “I’ll do some digging.”

“Anything on the Council members?”

“Not yet.”

“Ok, keep looking. Ivy?” she said, turning to the codebreaker who was fidgeting with her silverware. “Got anything?”

“Not really…”

“I know you don’t like to guess, but anything might help,” Coco said.

“The problem is,” Ivy said, steadying her hands and looking up. “It’s not a code, not really. It’s more like an extreme version of slang, likely with letter substitution added on top. Probably simple to use, but requires a lot of contextualization to-“

“Ivy,” Coco prodded.

“Right,” she said, shaking her head. “Most of the information in there seems to be numeric, definitely money, I’m assuming debts, so that did create a pattern that I’m starting to work out. If I’m right, it seems two individuals or entities owe a great deal of money to Beringer.”

“The Council members?” Coco asked.

Ivy hands spread uncertainly for a moment before they continued their restless fidgeting. “Maybe, I haven’t cracked the names yet, but they do appear next to each other a lot, so it would make sense.”

“What about Oak?”

Ivy took a deep breath, it was clear she really did hate conjecture, but she managed to push through her discomfort. “There is a third name that appears beside the two that owe a lot of money, it could be Oliver Oak…” she said.

“But?” Coco prompted.

“But whatever that person owes, it isn’t Lien.”

“What do you mean?”

Ivy hesitated again, then pressed on. “I’m not sure, but it totally breaks the pattern. It almost looks like another name was written where a number should have been, then there’s a whole slew of additional notes and information.”

“A name,” Coco repeated. “Thanks, Ivy, that could be useful. Keep doing what you do,”

“Sure thing, boss,” Ivy said with a broad smile.

“Jay?”

“Yeah?”

“Weapons?”

“Yeah.”

“How many?”

He grinned. “Lots.”

Coco shook her head with a smile, then looked at Carmina. “Transport?”

“Two ships, one up a few levels and one down a few, both ready to go whenever.”

“You’re the best.”

“You don’t need to tell me,” Carmina replied with a suggestive wink.

Coco flushed, just a bit, but otherwise didn’t react. “A?”

Aqua sighed. “Lips are tight up in Atlas. Seems like the soldiers are under orders not to tell outsiders what they’re doing or where they’re going. Best I can tell, they aren’t quite beating the drums of war yet, but they’re mustering.”

Coco chewed on this. “In other words, we likely won’t have a lot of warning before they strike.”

“Right, it’ll take them a few weeks to organize, but after that, they’ll be ready to attack at any time.”

“Hark, local military movements?”

“Mistral is still fighting within itself, seems the generals aren’t as keen as the Council to break with the rest of Remnant. Once the Council declares emergency powers that’ll break the bureaucratic stalemate.”

“How long until they do that?”

Hark shrugged. “If they had all four on board it would have been today, but the last holdout is slowing the process. Maybe a few days? Then another few weeks to organize the forces after, I’m assuming, they fire the resistant generals.”

“They wouldn’t just go to war over nothing though, would they?” Blake interjected. “There’s going to need to be a spark of some sort to set it off.”

“Maybe,” Coco said. “Maybe not. Shit is tense enough already, and with Vale out of the picture and Vacuo staying silent, things are inherently unstable. One misplaced word could be all one side or the other needs to kick things off, and with the council behaving as erratically as they are and possibly in the pocket of a gangster I think we can count on plenty of misplaced words.” Blake began to argue but thought better of it. “Ok,” Coco said as she organized her thoughts. “Not much we can do about Atlas right now; Hark’s all over trying to figure out who’s trying to kill us; Ivy is working on the Council’s dirty little secrets. Jay, Aqua, you two work with Yatsu. Sensors aren’t enough, I want this place to be defensible. The neighbors can’t see anything, but if someone makes a move on us they need to pay while we fall back to one of the ships. Got it?” Jay and Aqua smiled at each other, thrilled at their assignment. “Sun, Blake, you’re with me. We need to figure out what’s going on with Councilman Oak as soon as possible, and I think I have an idea of how we can do that.”

“What about me?” Carmina asked, sulking a bit at being left out.

“You’ll be playing a very critical part in the evening,” Coco assured her. “After all, we can’t go to a fancy party without a chauffeur.”


	12. The Red Carpet

Yang spent the last day on the ship staring at the approaching shoreline while dodging busy sailors preparing to dock as well as every one of Weiss’s numerous attempts to engage her in conversation. She knew that her friend was just worried, she knew she meant well, but she also knew what she wanted to talk about, and Yang was not ready to even approach that topic.

That topic being Blake.

Of course Yang was messed up over her arm. Facing your own mortality and coming out short a limb was enough to fuck anyone up, and she now knew herself to be no exception. But that still didn’t compare to the gaping hole in the core of her being that had been left behind when Blake disappeared. There was no point in addressing it. No amount of talking about it would make it better. Yang just wanted to move on, and she didn't need anyone else teaming up with her traitorous mind to stop her from doing just that.

As if the nightmares weren’t enough. As if reliving that night over and over and feeling the pain and fear and loss anew wasn’t sufficient torment, there was something worse that awaited her when the twisted flashes of memory were through. Her only hope lay in her dreams getting so bad that they woke her suddenly, violently tearing her from sleep to consciousness and not allowing her to linger in that horrible in-between space, where true torture lurked.

That was the real reason she didn’t want to go to sleep. Not the dreams, painful as they were. Oh no. It was the knowledge that eventually she’d have to wake up, have to brave that no man's land again. In the moment between dreams and reality, in that handful of heartbeats where the world was slowly coming into focus around her, _she_ was there. All dark hair and golden eyes and soft smooth skin with the graceful play of muscle beneath. Her smell like that of an exotic flower found only in the heart of the jungle at midnight beneath a full moon, intoxicating and rare and fleeting yet so deeply imprinted on Yang’s mind and body that she feared it would never fully leave her nostrils. For those few, treacherous, poisonous, crushingly beautiful moments, Blake was there. Then she wasn’t. Yang would wake, and remember, and be alone again. That piece of her was gone, sure as the flesh and blood and bone of her arm vanished again as consciousness reasserted itself.

Every. Single. Day.

That’s what no one understood. Yang hadn’t lost her arm and the love of her life six months ago, she had lost both just that morning, and she would spend all day preparing to lose them again the next. Over and over, with no end in sight.

She had thought going through that alone was awful, but having Weiss play witness to it was infinitely worse. The pity and guilt and discomfort in her eyes drove home how broken, how utterly shattered Yang was, and all she wanted to do was forget. It was the only way she could see to move on: keep herself busy, don’t dwell on the past, and hopefully, someday, eventually, forget. 

Avoiding Weiss forever wasn’t part of her plan, per se, but she needed space after the particularly egregious lapse of that morning. Besides, once they were on land she figured they would have too much to do to worry about bad dreams, so that problem would take care of itself. She just needed to get to Anima, get back to the mission, stop sitting around and thinking so much. That was all.

The ship was making its final approach when the captain sought her out near the prow. Weiss was subtly trailing in his wake, watching Yang like a skittish animal that might make a break for it if anyone moved too suddenly. “Should be making port in a few minutes,” Silvermane announced. “I’ll be plenty busy when we do and I suspect you don’t want to make a big show of your arrival, so I’ll say my goodbyes here.” He held out his hand to Yang. As she reached to take it he looked down, noting her sleeve clasped firmly at the wrist and concealing the yellow and black beneath. “A word of advice,” he said, meeting her gaze. “Anima’s a dangerous place these days, might be best not to hide that marvel of yours.”

“Why? I’m trying to avoid trouble.”

“And a wonderful goal that is,” he remarked, turning to regard both of his passengers. “But when you’re on the road in unfriendly lands it’s important to have weapons both hidden and visible. The visible ones are good for stopping fights before they start.”

When he didn’t go on Yang cocked her head. “Then what are the hidden ones for?”

Before he could respond Weiss spoke, as though reciting a lesson she’d been made to repeat a thousand times. “For winning the fights you can’t avoid.”

The captain beamed and touched his nose. “This one is more than a pretty face and a fancy name, you’d do well to heed her advice, young Miss.” He held out his hand as though offering it to a debutant, but rather than play along Weiss rolled her eyes and grasped it in a firm handshake, which only served to widen his smile. “It’s been an honor having you aboard my ship, and that’s the truth. Make sure you take care of each other, and when the time comes to head home keep an eye out for old Silvermane, I sure would love to hear the tale.”

They assured him they would, and Yang watched closely as he walked away, finally detecting the slightest of limps. “Hey Silvermane,” she called. “When this is over maybe I’ll make you a new foot as thanks.”

He barked a laugh and shook his head. “Oh no, I’m too old to figure out how to walk again, and got no need for a foot with more brains than I have under my cap. But I thank you all the same. Safe travels, ladies.”

*** * * * ***

“Wow,” Sun said, openly gaping as Blake eased down the stairs, mindful not to let her heels catch on her hemline. “You look amazing.”

“Thanks,” she replied, looking down at the dress Coco had given her. “Normally I stick to black or purple, but who am I to question the expert?”

“For the last time, that blue brings out your eyes,” Coco interjected, striding down the stairs confidently in her own dress. “Or at least, the color your eyes are now,” she said, admiring her handiwork as she joined them.

Coco was wearing a slinky black number shot through with subtle bronze swirls. Had one side not been slit nearly to her waist Blake was sure she wouldn’t be able to walk at all, let alone move as easily as she was while she inspected her two companions. 

Blake’s dress, a deep blue that really did bring out her falsely colored eyes beneath her blonde hair, was only slightly less form-fitting than Coco’s, but it was made from a material that was just a bit stretchy. She was comforted that if something went wrong she should be relatively mobile.

“Not to complain…” Sun said, looking back and forth between the two ladies.

“And yet, I hear you preparing to do just that,” Coco said, cocking an eyebrow at him.

“You two look like you’re about to go to a movie premiere. Why do I look like I’ll be serving drinks?” he said, gesturing to his black bowtie and matching shirt and pants.

“Because you will,” Coco replied.

“Wait, what?”

“Look, three’s a crowd, and we’re trying to get information from a guy known to be a bit of a womanizer,” Coco explained. “Who’s he more likely to talk to? A couple of hotties with no dates, or the two of us with you tagging along like a jealous boyfriend?”

“Then why do I have to put on this stupid tie and come at all?” Sun whined, tugging at his collar.

“Because the serving staff hears things at events like this that guests won’t, and you’ll be there as backup. You’re also less likely to stand out as a waiter.” Coco winced. “There probably won’t be many faunus in attendance who aren’t working.”

Sun flicked his tail in annoyance, then cocked his head at Blake. “What about her?” he asked, looking at her ears.

“Hm, I was kind of hoping you could maybe hide your ears in the wig,” Coco said, examining her head.

“Oh,” Blake said, flattening her ears. “I guess Oak isn’t likely to open up to a faunus, huh?”

“No,” Coco agreed. “That dude is trash. I’ll try talking to him alone, but if I need help it may be easier for you if he didn’t…know.”

“Hold on, let me go grab something,” Blake said, hiking up her dress and running up the stairs.

A few minutes later she came back down, a black bow firmly in place over her ears. She had stuffed it in her go-bag ages ago, hoping to never need it, but desperate times and all that. Coco bobbed her head side to side, taking in the addition. “Not necessarily a look I would have come up with, but it works,” she said. “Mina’s waiting outside. Ready?” When the others nodded she flashed them a grin. “Let’s go.”

With its narrow streets and multitude of disparate levels, Mistral was not a city of cars. Most people relied on their feet or the big central lifts to get where they were going, though small buggies could be found to get from place to place if they were needed. The wealthy, however, were not keen to climb the many stairs necessary to ascend to their palaces in the upper levels, and the small motorized carts were far from elegant, so neither of those options were oft-employed by the well-heeled.

There were two alternatives most often used by those with the means to do so. The first were palanquins; they may have been considered laughably anachronistic by the other kingdoms, but palanquins were very popular in Mistral, especially among the older elites who only needed to be carried to a neighbor’s house every day for tea. The younger crowd preferred small, private airships, just big enough for a half-dozen passengers and a pilot. It was generally considered fashionable to own at least one, but they weren’t exactly cheap, which was why a covert industry had arisen for the aspirational up-and-comers to rent them for an evening.

Parked neatly in the yard was one such craft. It was small and sleek and next to its open side door was Carmina, smartly dressed in a convincing chauffeur’s uniform. As they approached she tipped her hat jauntily and reached out to help Coco into the cabin, whistling appreciatively as she did. Laughing at the eye roll she received in return, she turned back and assisted Blake. Sun reached out his hand when it was his turn, making a ridiculous show of looking hurt when the Mina snorted and walked past him to climb into the small cockpit.

“It’s so hard to find good help these days,” Sun quipped, hopping easily into his seat.

Carmina hit the door controls and shut them in, the shaded glass all around them providing a panoramic view while shielding them from prying eyes. Heaven forbid that the passengers of such a craft be seen before they were ready. A small click preceded a speaker snapping to life. “Comfy back there?” Carmina’s voice asked.

Blake couldn’t imagine how one could be anything but comfortable on the plush leather seats, but Coco seemed unimpressed. “Beats walking,” was all she allowed. 

“You bet it does. Hold on,” the pilot said, easing the craft off the lawn and into the air with the barest whisper of acceleration. After clearing the roofline she swooped out over the edge of the cliff and began a gradual ascent.

Blake leaned out and watched the mountainside fall away, enjoying the feeling of freedom as the craft rose. Coco, on the other hand, was all business. “Any trouble with the rental?” she asked into the speaker.

“Nope!” came the cheery reply. “We even saved a bundle by not needing to hire a pilot.”

“You didn’t use your cover name, did you?” Coco pressed.

“What do you take me for? I burned all of that stuff when we went into hiding. Yatsu hooked me up with a fresh license, easy peasy.”

“Good, if you need to rent again have him make you another one and go to a different company.”

“That seems a little unnecessary, doesn’t it?”

“Not anymore,” Coco said, looking at Blake. “Just do it, Mina.”

There was a moment of silence before the pilot responded. “Yes ma’am.”

Blake nodded. While the others may find Coco’s new attitude paranoid, years in the White Fang had taught Blake that it was better to be paranoid than dead. It was reassuring to see that at least one of the members of the team understood the gravity of their situation and was taking appropriate precautions. With any luck, it would be enough to keep them all alive.

\--

Carmina did a quick scouting run above their destination before peeling off and finding a quiet block nearby. She dropped the ship low over an empty-looking building, feathering it to a stop just above the roof. Sun took his cue and quickly bailed out, landing awkwardly when he remembered at the last second that he couldn’t tuck and roll on the dirty roof. He somehow managed to turn his stumble into a strut, then flashed a cocky grin and a thumbs up to show he was unharmed before trotting to the edge of the building. He leaped off, disappearing from view as Mina closed the door and returned them to the sky.

For a few tense minutes the ship inscribed easy circles in the crowded sky; ostensibly they were waiting their turn to approach, but Carmina repeatedly ceded the right-of-way to others in her no-nonsense pilot’s voice while they gave Sun time to close in on foot. Coco gave the go-ahead once she received his text, and they finally joined the queue in earnest and awaited the signal that they were clear to land.

Sun hadn’t been far off when he said they looked ready for a movie premiere. The entrance was lavishly adorned with an actual red carpet and slowly tracking spotlights that drew lazy spirals in the scattered clouds above. Lights lining the carpet that were flickering to life as the sun disappeared behind a distant mountain. The little flashing dots guided the steps of the attendees from the numerous small landing pads to the front door, where a small gaggle of reporters and photographers awaited them with cameras flashing.

“This is a fundraiser?” Blake asked, trying and failing to calculate how much money it would cost to arrange such an event. However much it was, she was sure it was a lot.

“Welcome to Mistral,” Coco said, shaking her head at the garish display. “You don’t last ten years on the Council if you don’t know how to play the game.”

“But a fundraiser? At a time like this?” Blake asked in disbelief.

Coco laughed. “Especially at a time like this. How else can people get in on the action when the getting’s good?”

“Still, do they actually make any money at these things?”

“You should see the price of a ticket.”

“Ah…” Blake said, then, “Wait, how did we get two?”

“You’re not the only one who can spin a yarn,” Coco said, but before Blake could press further they settled gently to the ground, Carmina warning them all the while that ushers were waiting right outside. “Showtime,” Coco said, looking every bit the star arriving for a party thrown exclusively in her honor. As the well-dressed ushers helped them out of their ship, Blake hoped she was half as convincing.

If the outside of the venue was lavish then the inside was positively resplendent. The entry hall alone was the most beautifully adorned room Blake had ever seen. Coco slipped her arm through Blake’s as they entered, swatted her, and shook her head a fraction of an inch. It took a moment for Blake to realize she was gaping, and once she did she resolutely tilted her chin down and looked at the finery around her as though she was quite bored by the whole display.

A stately gentleman greeted them stiffly at the inner door, turning to a woman at a small table behind him and repeating the unfamiliar name Coco had provided. After flicking through a stack of cards the woman passed him one in particular, which he handed to Coco with an artistically arched eyebrow.

“You’re at table forty-eight, Ms. Veritas. You’ll find it to the right,” he said as he examined them down the length of his nose. “Have a wonderful evening.”

“Thank you,” Coco replied, stepping past him with Blake in tow.

The room beyond was vast. The far wall felt like a different continent and the gilded ceiling vaulting overhead was doing a wonderful impression of a beautiful, metallic sky. The shining floor beneath was filled with a sea of tables and chairs, only about half of which were already occupied. Numerous figures, dressed exactly as Sun had been, darted through it all delivering drinks and finger foods on fine silver platters. Blake felt completely adrift in the shimmering tumult and was more than willing to let Coco deftly navigate them to their table, which was mercifully empty.

“So, who exactly are we supposed to be?” Blake asked out of the corner of her mouth, reaching for her water glass and taking comfort from the cool condensation on her fingers as she took a sip.

“You’re nobody, just a date for the daughter of a reclusive but wealthy donor,” Coco murmured, looking around.

“Do I have a name?”

“Fiona is fine.”

“And you?”

“Aleta Veritas.”

“Nice to meet you, I suppose.”

“Charmed,” Coco said, looking around the room. “I don’t think Oak is here yet, but I’m going to go work the room for a bit.”

“What should I do?” Blake asked, horrified at the thought of being left alone so soon.

Coco grinned. “Have fun,” she said. “And keep an eye on me, if I wave you over help me out as seems appropriate.”

“Wait, I don’t-“ Blake complained, but Coco was already picking her way to a group of people as though they were old friends. “Great,” she muttered to herself, taking another sip of water.

“Can I get you a drink ma’am?” a voice asked from behind her.

“Oh, I-“ Blake said, turning and seeing a familiar smile and a pair of wiggling eyebrows. “Sun!” she hissed in surprise.

“Be cool,” he said through his smile.

“Sorry,” she mumbled. “A drink would actually be perfect right about now. Maybe some wine?”

“Would you like to see the list?”

“No, surprise me,” she said.

Sun beamed. “Your wish is my command.”

Blake tried to seem relaxed as she waited for Sun to return. After what felt like hours, but was likely only a minute or two, he glided back to her table with a drink laden tray in one hand and oddly perfect posture.

“Your drink, m’lady,” he said, placing it in front of her with a flourish.

“Thank you,” she replied, serious despite his playfulness.

“Relax,” he said quietly.

“Sorry, parties just aren’t my thing,” she said, taking a sip of her drink. “This is fantastic, good choice.”

“Thought you might like that,” he said, scanning the room as though looking for another guest to serve. “And don’t worry, you don’t need to be a party animal. If you can’t play the part of socialite just keep being aloof. Someone will get curious and come talk to you eventually.”

“I kind of hope they won’t.”

“They will, and you’ll be fine.”

“Any chance you can stay and help?” she asked, knowing the answer before he replied.

“Sorry, no can do,” he said, pasting a fake smile on his face that looked a lot like the one Blake had used for months at the Liberalia. “Duty calls.”

Then he was gone, weaving his way through guests toward the couple that had waved him down. Blake took another drink of the wine he had brought, it really was just right, and considered what he’d said. His suggestion wasn’t a bad one; Blake knew how to work a room when she was questioning people for a story, but casual small talk had always been a weak point for her. It would likely be worse if she tried to be someone she wasn’t. Instead, she surreptitiously looked around, spotting several other people sitting alone and noting that rather than seeming awkward or nervous they all looked bored and uninterested in the goings-on around them. Taking bits and pieces of mannerisms from the others, Blake studiously rearranged herself until she looked appropriately checked out.

As she fell into character, she decided she had been brought against her wishes to the event (partly true) and was angry that she had been ditched by her date (definitely true). This gave her every excuse to track Coco’s movements around the room, and she did so with the look of someone quickly running out of patience.

“You seem to be enjoying this about as much as I am.”

Blake turned. The sarcastic words had emanated from an older woman who had appeared suddenly behind her. Blake couldn’t help but think she had likely been a stunning beauty in her younger years, and now that she was on the other side of fifty her beauty hadn’t so much faded as matured into something more akin to elegance. Her dress was understated but somehow all the grander for it, and for a heartbeat, Blake felt as though she were in the presence of royalty, that maybe she should curtsey or bow.

“May I sit?” the woman asked, giving Blake a chance to settle her character back into place.

“Of course,” she said.

“Thank you, these shoes are lovely to look at and good for little else,” the woman said, a conspiratorial twinkle in her eye as she settled down next to Blake. “What’s your name dear? I don’t think I’ve seen you around at one of these events before.”

“Fiona, ma’am.”

“Oh, don’t you start calling me ma’am,” she said. “Patricia will do fine, thank you.” It wasn’t a request so Blake simply nodded. “So what, or rather who, brings you here tonight, dear?”

“Aleta,” she said pointing her out. “She failed to mention that tonight’s party was going to be less about dancing than networking.” She hoped her pout was convincing, and based on the knowing laugh she elicited, it seemed it was.

“I know that feeling all too well,” Patricia commiserated. “I can’t remember the last time I went to an event just for the fun of it.”

Before Blake could ask who it was that dragged her to all of those events a serious-looking man marched over to their table. “Ma’am, we’re about to begin,” he said. “May I escort you to your seat?”

Patricia rolled her eyes at Blake before nodding at the young man, accepting his offered arm as she rose to her feet. “Try to enjoy yourself, my dear,” she said to Blake. “If you get too bored come find me, I do so enjoy meeting new people.”

Her serious escort led her away and toward the head table and in almost the same instant Coco swooped in, fresh from her latest encounter. “What the hell?” she hissed, watching the regal figure that had just left their table.

“What?” Blake asked.

“I’ve gone around this room twice and spoken to no one of consequence. You sat here drinking alone and somehow met Patricia _fucking_ Oak?”

“Wait, what?” Blake asked, her eyes bulging as she turned to watch the woman in question be seated in the center of the head table.

“And you didn’t know, lovely,” Coco said. “No accounting for luck, I guess. Did you learn anything useful?”

“Just that she’s bored already.”

“Useful.”

“Sorry, I didn’t think to ask,” Blake said, sitting back and crossing her arms.

“Now dear, no reason to get huffy,” Coco said, looking around at the rapidly filling room. Leaning in so her voice wouldn’t carry she added, “It may come in handy later, you can give us an in to talk to Oliver.”

As she had leaned in Coco had slipped her arm around Blake’s shoulders, playing the part of the consoling date perfectly. In their closeness, Blake was struck by just how beautiful Coco was, with her aristocratic cheekbones, pert lips, and intelligent eyes that were a brown so deep and sumptuous it was hardly appropriate for polite company. The effect was amplified by the perfume she was wearing; it filled Blake’s nostrils with its subtle and alluring scent. She couldn’t have been more different, but something about her nearness, the press of her hand on Blake’s touch-starved skin, brought flashes of lilac and gold to mind.

Coco smirked at her reddening cheeks and dilating pupils. “Sorry, kid. You’re cute, but my dance card is already kind of full.”

“What? No, I-“

“I’m teasing, but seriously your poker face is shit. When’s the last time you got laid?”

Blake sat back and crossed her arms. “That’s none of your business.”

“It is if you can’t keep it in your pants and end up getting us killed,” Coco murmured as she took a sip of her drink.

“I am not having this conversation.”

“Well, certainly not here,” Coco said through a smile as people began filling in the seats on the other side of their table.

“Here or anywhere,” Blake replied, busying herself with her wine.

Coco handled speaking with each new arrival to their table, leaving Blake to stew. The worst part was that the presumptuous woman was right. It had been far too long since Blake had even acknowledged that part of herself, and now every pretty face that looked her way was a distraction. In the past, she had had no difficulty seeking out a bed partner to help her regain her focus, but the very thought of letting someone touch her made her ill, as the only touch she sought was far out of reach.

Or at least, she had thought that’s how she felt, until a moment ago. Being so close to Coco, even for a moment, even as part of their cover, had awoken something in her, something she thought she had buried away. Something that was now agitated and wreaking havoc on her emotions, demanding its need be sated. Blake shook her head in a poor attempt to clear it. Coco was a colleague, not to mention taken. Off-limits even if Blake were willing to entertain the thought of trying to find someone new to fill the void within her. Which she wasn’t. Her heart was spoken for; she would wait.

But how long could she go on that way?

She finished her wine, looking for a nearby server to fetch her another. _As long as it takes_ , she decided, _and I will control myself in the meantime_.

“Ladies, and gentlemen.” The amplified voice washed over the general hubbub of the room. “If you would please take your seats, we would like to begin tonight’s program.” The man waited as the room settled into the best approximation of silence a crowd of that size could manage, then continued, “Without further ado, I’d like to introduce the man of the hour: Oliver Oak.”

The crowd applauded as he strode in, waving and smiling his perfect smile as he made his way for the empty seat beside his wife. Oliver Oak looked like he had been genetically engineered to be a politician. He was above average height, though not so tall as to be defined by it, broad-shouldered but lean, with gray hair that looked like it had been parted with a ruler. Everything from the angle of his hand as he acknowledged the crowd to the shine on his shoes looked calculated and focus-grouped to the point where he didn’t even seem alive in his own right to Blake. The crowd ate it up, however, and there were raucous cheers well after he sat.

The cheering abated eventually and the evening continued, following the basic outline of all other events like it with countless boring speeches sprinkled with predictably safe jokes that everyone pretended to laugh at while they waited for their food to arrive. Dinner, at least, was fantastic, and Blake dug in with gusto while she completely ignored the droning voices going on and on about the challenging times they were facing and the need for strong leadership. Even Coco eventually checked out, and soon she and Blake were drawn into a discussion at the table of the happenings in local high society. They had little to add but enjoyed the gossip, and skillfully batted aside any attempts to be drawn into divulging their own secrets.

The program was perfectly timed to end just as coffee and dessert were brought out. After a few minutes to enjoy both everyone returned to their true purpose for the evening: finding those with money or power and offering what they had in exchange for what they lacked. Coco had apparently had enough waiting and rose to pursue her target, pulling Blake along with her as she made a beeline for the head table.

“What are we doing?” Blake asked, allowing herself to be led but dragging her feet just a bit.

“ _We_ aren’t doing anything. _You_ are introducing me to your new friend,” Coco said through a pleasant smile.

Blake was out of time to argue or back out; Patricia had spotted her and was waving for her to join the circle that had formed around her husband. “Fiona, dear,” she purred as they approached.

“And this must be Aleta, it’s lovely to meet you.”

Coco responded with something between a curtsy and a bow. It should have been awkward but she somehow pulled it off, the courtliness of her gestured only ruined by the appearance of one long and shapely leg through the slit in her dress.

Oliver Oak suddenly appeared at this wife’s side, as though summoned. Equal parts familiar and formal, he reached out to greet the women warmly, holding Coco’s hand for a beat longer than strictly necessary, his wife’s eyes hardening and her lips tightening as she watched. When he turned to Blake he faltered a bit as his eyes flicked repeatedly to her bow, but his smile was reaffixed and he was moving on before she could decipher why

Coco, unwilling to let go of the opportunity, boldly stepped up beside him as he joined another group. Her presence didn’t go unnoticed. Oak deftly reached out and grabbed two flutes of champagne from a passing tray, handing one to Coco before settling his arm casually on her shoulders. Blake and Patricia watched the shameless display, and after seeing enough the older woman made her way to sit at a table just out of earshot.

Blake’s concern that she would be unwelcome due to Coco’s behavior was quickly put to rest as the woman patted the chair beside her. “How long have you been together, dear?” Patricia asked as Blake joined her, never taking her eyes off of her husband.

“Not long.”

The woman nodded. “Would you care for some advice?”

“I would be honored.”

“Leave her, tonight if possible.”

Blake blinked. “What?”

Patricia turned to look at her, eyes brimming with decades of pain. “It’s not going to get better. I’m not sure if she wants to sleep with my husband because she’s attracted to power or if she hopes to gain power for herself by sleeping with him, but it’s one of the two. My money’s on the latter.”

“No, she wouldn’t do that,” Blake said, intending to play a part and confused by how easily she managed to summon a wave of jealousy.

Patricia shook her head at the naive young woman. “I used to make excuses for Oliver. That he wouldn’t, that he couldn’t, that it was just one time.” She sighed, her breath heavy with regret. “But he could, he did, and it was never just once. I swear at this point he flirts in front of me as a dare. He knows I’ll never leave him now, and he likes to rub it in.”

“But, why?” Blake asked, honestly curious. “Why would he do that? And why stay with him?”

“I suppose he does it because he can. Oliver is not a kind man, and age has done little to temper his baser qualities,” she said. “And as for me? I suppose I stay because we’re a good pair. I’m hardly an angel myself, and I’m too settled in my ways to change now. Power, even power one step removed, is difficult to relinquish once you’ve held it.” Patricia shook her head, turning her sad eyes toward someone for whom it wasn’t too late. “So don’t wait, leave now. Let go while you can and go find happiness.”

“If only it were that simple,” Blake remarked.

Patricia watched her closely with her shrewd eyes, a shadow of understanding upon her face. Blake felt oddly compelled to open up to her, to tell her everything, or at least a portion of the agony tearing at her soul. Instead, she pushed her pain down, grateful when the astute woman beside her artfully steered the conversation into gentler waters, away from the deeply personal depths in which they had been floundering.

Nearly an hour passed as they discussed literature and art and science, anything and everything besides love or politics or the war brewing in the world below. The conversation only faltered when Coco reappeared, her smile very obviously forced as she bowed again to the suddenly cold woman and offered her arm to Blake. “I need some air, will you accompany me?” she asked.

“Of course,” Blake said, allowing herself to be guided to her feet. Turning back to Patricia she smiled apologetically. “Thank you for keeping me company.”

“It was my pleasure dear, I assure you,” the woman replied. “Do think about what we discussed,” she said, favoring Coco with an icy glance.

“I will, thank you,” Blake said as they departed.

“What was that all about?” Coco asked when they were out of earshot and heading for one of the numerous windowed doors that led to balconies around the perimeter.

“Oh nothing, she just thinks I should leave you rather than follow you on your rise to power,” Blake said.

Coco chuckled. “I can’t blame her, the way I was behaving.” She paused as they passed a few other couples vacating a now-empty balcony, which they promptly claimed. The air was still warm from the summer sun, even so close to the summit. The stars twinkled merrily above while the shattered moon sat low and heavy on the horizon. It was a beautiful night, so why did it feel so hollow? “Did you learn anything from her?”

“Nothing useful, she had firm control of the conversation and kept it on neutral topics,” Blake admitted. “You?”

“No,” Coco said, leaning on the ornate railing at the edge of the balcony. “I wasn’t able to get him talking much at all.” Blake snorted and Coco paused at the sudden show of derision before continuing, “And everyone he spoke to was basically there to offer him money for favorable legislation, but not in the way we’re worried about. Just the usual political bullshit.”

“So you did all that flirting for nothing?” Blake snarked, surprising herself when her words had more bite in the air than they had in her head.

Coco narrowed her eyes, but rather than engaging, she countered with a question of her own. “Did you notice how he looked at your bow?”

“No, but I noticed him running his hands all over you while he pretended to listen to you,” Blake muttered.

Coco blew out a frustrated breath. “Are you serious right now?”

“I’m just saying, you’re throwing yourself at that asshole and getting nothing in return-“

“Ok, that’s enough,” Coco snapped. “You’re out of line.”

Blake opened her mouth, another retort ready to go, but she thought better of it. “Sorry,” she mumbled.

Coco rolled her eyes. “You done?” Blake nodded. “Good. Let’s try this again. You may not have noticed, but he was staring at your bow.”

“Ok, so?”

“So,” Coco said, looking exasperated. “He had the same reaction when Sun walked past, except he was looking at his tail,” she said. “Or maybe his shapely backside, though nothing I’ve heard indicates he swings that way.”

“I mean we know he hates faunus, is that really a surprise?” Blake asked, adjusting her bow to ensure it was still on straight.

“That’s the thing though, he looked…anxious,” Coco said, turning the focus of her eyes inward, remembering. “Not just at you two, he looked at every faunus walking past like they might stab him, and jumped more than once at a sudden noise behind him. He did a good job of covering it up, but he’s definitely on edge.”

“What should we do?”

Coco considered this. “I don’t know. If he’s skittish, anything we do might tip him off. It might be best to pull out and try a new approach.”

“What if we didn’t leave quite yet?” Blake said, something of a plan forming in her mind.

Coco shook her head. “No, we need to be careful.”

“I’m just going to try something. If it doesn’t work we can bail.” Blake didn’t wait for her to protest before she turned and walked quickly back into the ballroom.

“Get back here!” Coco hissed after her.

“Sorry, I need to do this on my own,” Blake said as she strode away, adjusting her bow one more time.

“Of course you do,” Coco grumbled as Blake slipped back inside, a triumphant smirk on her face.


	13. A Leisurely Arrival and a Hasty Departure

The _Itinerant_ bumped gently up against the dock, and the crew gamely set about tying it off and unloading the appropriate cargo. Johannes led Weiss and Yang through the chaos and down to the dock where her motorcycle had been discreetly unloaded, telling them it may be best to push it for a bit so as not to make too much noise before he waved farewell and trotted back to the gangplank. Trying not to look like they were guilty of something, Yang and Weiss walked up the bustling pier to the little port city of Hamanashi.

The waterfront was lined with numerous neatly arrayed wooden buildings, most with signs advertising food or drink or entertainment for the sailors passing through. Large storehouses were strategically located along the handful of streets that reached from the harbor further inland, and along those wider avenues were an array of shops and inns. That’s not to say that it was a bustling metropolis. A block or two from the densely packed waterfront the buildings promptly gave way to rolling fields and sparse forest, and all of the streets curved and flowed into one another until they were a single, wide dirt road that wound its way east into the verdant hills.

Weiss and Yang made their way to the largest of the avenues that ran to the sea and stopped in front of the first inn they spotted. It was a narrow building of three stories boasting the best breakfast in Anima. That claim seemed more than a little suspect, but nothing about the place appeared immediately objectionable. They shared a silent glance, shrugged, then found a spot to park Yang’s bike and went inside to ask about a room.

The interior was dark and cool, which was a pleasant change from the late afternoon sun. It was also entirely empty. The ground floor seemed largely dedicated to a dining space, with wooden tables and mismatched chairs of various shapes and sizes arrayed around the open room. An alcove fronted by a counter off to one side seemed a likely place to find assistance, and when they walked over they found a small bell with a cheery handwritten note that read “Ring once for service. Twice won’t get me here twice as fast.” The pair shrugged again in silent agreement and Yang reached up to gently tap the lever, sending an oddly lovely note ringing around the room.

After waiting patiently for a few moments and impatiently for several more, Yang reached for the bell again. She retracted her hand guiltily when a door on the far side of the room burst open, making way for a large woman wiping her hands on the stained expanse of her apron as she walked over to slip under the counter with surprising grace.

“I saw you about to ring that bell again, girl,” she said with an accusatory smile and a gravelly voice as she turned around and leaned on the counter. “Good thing for you that you didn’t.”

“Uh…sorry?” Yang said.

The woman laughed and shook her head. “You city gals are so easy snare,” she said merrily. “What can I do you for?”

“We’d like a room for the night,” Weiss said, adding, “Please.”

“Sure, I can do that. Want one bed or two?” she asked, looking at them as though she already knew the answer.

“Two,” they responded immediately and simultaneously, drawing another hearty laugh from the proprietor.

“If you insist, ladies. Things are quiet though, so if you change your mind, let me know,” she said, getting them a key and snickering again at their red faces as she handed it over and accepted their money. She gave them directions to their room and then vanished again into the back. Keys in hand, the travelers went back out to the bike, collected their things, and made their way up to their room. They were more than a little relieved upon their arrival to see that there were, in fact, two beds.

Silence had hung between them most of the day; words seemed too feeble to penetrate the many layers of awkwardness that had formed there. Once they closed the door to their little room, however, the dam burst. All at once, they were laughing to the point of hysterics.

“Cool, she definitely thinks we’re in denial about our feelings for each other,” Yang said, wiping a tear from her eye as she continued to chuckle.

“Oh my gods, right?” Weiss agreed. “Like you’re even my type.”

“Shut up!” Yang said, throwing a pillow at her and setting them both to laughing again. When they finally calmed somewhat she looked over at Weiss, her face serious. “About this morning…”

“You really don’t have to-“

“No, I just…I’m sorry. Sorry I snapped at you, and sorry for giving you the cold shoulder after.”

Weiss smiled warmly. “It’s ok.”

“Ok…I do appreciate that you’re trying to help, I’m just not…it’s easier for me not to talk about it. You know?”

“Sure,” Weiss said, schooling her face into a supportive smile. “I understand.”

“Good.”

“So, what do we do now?” she asked, looking out their window at the largely empty street.

“I don’t know,” Yang said with a shrug. “I guess we kill time, see if this dude shows up. We should probably find a place to buy some supplies and a map.”

“Sounds good to me, let’s take a walk.”

The lock on the door seemed sturdy enough, so they left their things behind and returned to the street. A quick look inland revealed little in the way of shopping, so they wandered back to the harbor, checking various signs and trying to get their bearings. They made a few passes down the relatively short oceanfront street and chose a promising looking general store. The old wooden door creaked gently on its hinges as it admitted them, and an old shopkeeper that appeared to be made of the same weathered planks as the store around him greeted them pleasantly before going back to his newspaper.

It didn’t take long for them both to realize that Weiss’s opinions on what counted as essential weren’t the most productive, and while Yang tried to work out a polite way to ask her to wait outside she huffily volunteered to go chat up the owner for any news that might be useful. With Weiss safely aimed in another direction, Yang was free to select everything she thought they’d need for two or three days. She’d made a brief study of Anima before they’d left Vale and was relatively certain there’d be no more than a day’s ride between most villages. She sincerely hoped her assessment was accurate because on any stretches longer than that the issue wouldn’t be food so much as fuel.

 _Too late to worry about that now_ , Yang decided as she carried her basket of goods toward the sound of Weiss’s tinkling laughter. She paused for a moment before interrupting, not wanting to lose the opportunity to learn something valuable. She hung back behind a shelf, waiting and watching Weiss work her magic. She had absolutely earned her nickname as the Ice Queen, but when Weiss decided to turn on the charm there were few able to resist, and older men especially were always caught like moths in a flame. Not in a creepy way, more like they were auditioning for the spot of favorite uncle.

Yang waited for their conversation to reach a lull before stepping in and handing her selection to the smiling man. “I hear you two have quite a trek ahead of you,” he commented.

“Sure do,” Yang replied vaguely, side-eyeing Weiss and trying to get a sense of the story she had told.

“I’m glad journalists are finally taking an interest in what’s happening out here. Seems that with the tower down over in Vale, Mistral has gone and forgotten we exist at all.”

“That’s…why we’re here,” Yang said, smiling as she handed him some money.

His smile faltered somewhat as he took it from her gleaming hand, but he reset it immediately as his eyes returned to her face. “You ladies have a safe trip.”

“Thank you,” Weiss said, a graceful curtsy somehow laced in her words if not her body. “And thank you for the lovely conversation.”

“Any time young lady, the pleasure was all mine,” he said.

“Learn anything?” Yang asked when they were outside and out of earshot.

“Not really, mostly things we already knew: skirmishes keep cropping up between villages and there’s no central authority to step in. In all the chaos there have been frequent raids on villages in the area. Armed groups have been descending from the hills at night to steal with impunity, killing anyone who tries to stop them.”

“That’s not great.”

“No, but not really worse than we anticipated.”

“True. Anything else?”

“Some are claiming the raiders are also abducting people, but he said he wasn’t sure if he believed that or not.”

“I think we know the answer to that one,” Yang said darkly.

“Yeah,” Weiss agreed. “Are we all set on supplies?”

“Should be.”

“Perfect. What should we do for the rest of the evening?”

Yang looked around as they walked back toward the inn. “We could always find somewhere to grab a drink,” she said with a shrug.

“Works for me.”

“Then head back to the inn for dinner. Hopefully, our friend shows up before too long.”

Weiss nodded. “Hopefully.”

\--

They stopped back at their room to drop off their purchases, then headed off in search of a bar. It wasn’t hard to find one, the small city was crawling with them. The trick was to find one worth visiting. Weiss tried not to be overly choosy, but it seemed the sailors that made up the majority of the patronage weren’t quite choosy enough. Regardless, given how early it was, most of the shady little establishments were as empty as the dusty street. The tavern they ended up in looked about the same as the rest but boasted a few actual patrons scattered throughout the dark and dingy interior. She hoped that a sign that there was something palatable awaiting them.

It was still far from crowded, and the pair had no trouble claiming an empty booth just inside the door. Weiss sat while Yang offered to grab the first round, sauntering over to the bar and leaving bootprints in the grimy sawdust underfoot. A man appeared, as if from thin air, the moment she was gone. His eyes flashed like he’d spotted a wounded gazelle separated from the herd as he sidled up to loom over Weiss, and he leered at her through several days of stubble as he picked his teeth with one hand, the other looped through his dirt-stained jeans. Not exactly a prince charming, this one.

“Hey there little lady,” he said, his voice as greasy as his shoulder-length hair. “You new around here?”

“Just passing through,” Weiss said, hardly deigning to acknowledge his presence as she did.

“Understandable, this armpit of a town is hardly worth the time of a beauty like you,” he replied, somehow gaining confidence from her snub. She hummed vaguely in response, and rather than catching the hint, he went on. “How would you like to be entertained by a real man? It would help liven up your stay.”

“That would be lovely,” Weiss said, finally turning to him, wide-eyed. “Do you happen to know where I could find a real man?”

His face darkened, but before he could eject an attempt at wit through his curled lips he was interrupted by the clomp of heavy boots. Turning, he found himself face to face with a mighty scowl on an otherwise lovely face. “Can I help you?” Yang practically growled. He didn’t respond, so she stepped around him and set down the two drinks she had been carrying. Weiss accepted hers with thanks.

The unwelcome visitor glanced between them and his smile returned. “Oh, I see. Well, hey, that works for me, I don’t mind two for the price of one.”

Yang stepped in close, looking him up and down with disdain in her eyes. “Not sure you could afford to pay that price, pal.”

“You know,” the man said, ignoring her words as he eyed her hungrily. “At first I was just going to take you as part of a package with this little snowflake, but you’re quite a beauty in your own right, or you would be if you tried smiling a bit. And your hair,” he added, reaching up as though mesmerized by the golden locks.

Before his hand could reach its goal it was caught in an unyielding grip. The creep tugged a few times to free it before looking down at what appeared to be a gloved fist wrapped around his arm. The fingers constricted with a subtle whir, and the man’s eyes widened as the bones in his wrist ground together ever so slightly.

“Hey, let go of me, freak!” he said, struggling in vain until he looked up and was cowed by the fearsome eyes burning into his own from inches away.

“If I let you go, I expect to never see or hear from you again. Are. We. Clear?” Yang said. Her voice came out just above a whisper, but each syllable landed like a hammer blow.

“Yeah-ow!” he cried as her grip tightened. “Yes! Gods, I promise!”

Yang leaned in closer before releasing her grip and turning her back on him.

“You bitch!” the man cried, swinging his uninjured hand in a wild haymaker intended to catch her off-guard.

Yang couldn’t have seen him throw the punch, but she was still out of the way well before the strike could land. To Weiss’s eyes, it seemed as if she had started to move before he struck, but regardless, his fist passed through the air unchecked. Then he was too busy fighting to keep his footing to notice that the woman before him hadn’t just ducked, but had spun in a tight circle to bring herself back around to face him. He never saw how she used the swooping pivot to load and fire a devastating uppercut. He only felt the impact of it as she sank it deep under his ribs, driving the air from his lungs and leaving his eyes wide with shock and pain. He staggered back from the blow, staring daggers at her as she calmly swung into the booth and took her seat, tipping her glass jauntily his way before taking a large swig.

“You…” he uttered before he cried out in pain and collapsed to his knees, curling up into a ball. And there he stayed. Weiss looked at the man, wide-eyed, and then back at her calmly drinking friend, unable to articulate her question.

“Liver shot,” Yang said by way of explanation.

“Excuse me?”

“Liver shot,” she repeated. “I landed that one right on the button, too.” She looked back at her fallen foe with something akin to pity in her eyes and shook her head before turning back to her drink. “Takes a second to set in, but he won’t be bothering us anymore.” As she set the glass down her left hand trembled ever so slightly, but she tucked it away under the table, likely hoping Weiss wouldn’t notice.

The bartender chose that moment to make an appearance. “Problem, ladies?”

“Not anymore,” Yang said, nodding toward the crumpled figure in the corner.

“This fucking guy,” the big man said, throwing his dish towel over his shoulder and hauling the whimpering man to his feet. “Drinks are on the house tonight, ladies. Thanks for helping me out with this asshole. I’m not supposed to hit customers.” With that, he half guided, half dragged the man, still clutching his stomach and moaning, out the door. He returned a moment later, alone, and went back to the bar, flashing Yang and Weiss a thumbs up.

“So much for keeping a low profile,” Weiss muttered.

“Hey, I was standing up for you.”

“Oh, please. I was handling myself fine. You just snapped when he tried to touch your hair.”

Yang looked away, a guilty smile playing at her lips. “I mean it wasn’t just that…”

“Just try not to forget our true goal. You can’t go losing your head all the time.”

“Hey, I didn’t hit him with my right, that took a lot of restraint.”

Weiss chewed this over. “Fine,” she relented, smiling despite herself. “That was pretty cool the way you did that, by the way. I’m almost sad I never saw one of your fights now.”

Yang winked at her mischievously. “That was nothing. You should have seen me go all out.”

“Impressive as it would surely be, I kind of hope it doesn’t come to that.”

Before she could reply they were interrupted by another man hovering over their table, though this one had the sense to maintain a respectful distance. “Excuse me ladies, mind if I join you?”

“Were you not paying attention just now?” Yang asked incredulously, looking up at the new arrival. This man was short and rail-thin and weatherbeaten from the road, but far less revolting than their last suitor.

“Would it help if I mentioned I was an associate of Qrow Branwen’s?”

Yang’s scowl melted away. She nodded silently and the man grabbed a nearby chair, pulling it up to the end of the table and throwing himself into it. “How did you know it was us?” she asked as he did.

“New faces always stand out in small towns, and you weren’t exactly subtle just now.” Weiss gave Yang the most obvious ‘I told you so’ look she had, but it went unnoticed. “Besides, your uncle gave me a basic description, said I couldn’t miss you,” he said, glancing at her hair. “He was certainly correct in that. Then again, he was mistaken as to your current number of limbs. Seems an odd thing to get wrong, but the world is full of surprises.” He looked closely at the hand holding her beer as he spoke, taking in the bearings at the joints and the armor that was too snug to contain flesh and bone beneath. Yang caught him staring and hastily shoved her arm under the table with its organic mate, looking away as she did. The man hummed thoughtfully to himself, then turned to Weiss. “I wasn’t told you’d be accompanied, much less by a Schnee. Weiss, unless I am mistaken?”

“I…no, you’re not,” she admitted, looking up at him with narrowed eyes. “And who, exactly, are you?”

“My name isn’t of terribly great consequence, surely not as great as yours,” he said, giving a slight bow of his head that could have been either mocking or sincere. “I go by Blink. Until recently I was tasked with keeping an eye on this region of Anima.”

“Until recently?” Weiss prompted.

Blink bowed his head. “I’m supposed to be back in Vale by now. All of our members have been ordered out of Anima, but I delayed so that we might overlap, as a favor to Qrow.”

“No chance that favor could extend to you coming with us?” Yang wheedled.

“No,” he said with a rueful laugh. “I owe my life to Qrow, more than once, but if I don’t go back I likely won’t have a life to offer.”

“Figured I’d ask,” Yang grumbled.

“Fair. But no, I cannot come with you.”

“What can you do for us?” Yang pressed.

“I can tell you what I know.”

“Which is?”

“Unfortunately, not much, which is remarkable in its own way,” he admitted. “The villagers at Shion wouldn’t say anything about where the volunteers had gone, just that they left in a hurry. It was a lie though, and their town looked like it had been through the wringer. They claimed it had been a storm, but I’d heard that they had been raided, the damage I saw was consistent with that. Either way, they were scared of something. Scared enough to try to hide the remaining traces of the missing folks, but they missed a few things. Normally I would have waited until I knew more, but there were already whispers that we were going to get booted from the continent, so I had to move out. Qrow had asked me to look out for his niece, though, and her ID was one of the things left behind, so I contacted him immediately.”

Yang looked up. “You’re the one who relayed the message back to Vale?” He nodded, and she thought about the little square of plastic bearing her sister’s face and tucked away in her pocket. “So where did they go?” she demanded.

Blink spread his empty hands. “If only I knew. I can tell you there was no airship involved. I wasn’t far from town during the window in which they must have been abducted, and other than the ship that I’m pretty certain delivered them to Shion in the first place, the skies were clear. They also didn’t have heavy transport; that would have left behind an obvious trail. I believe they left on foot.”

“It’s possible that they had vehicles stashed somewhere nearby,” Weiss pointed out.

“True, but I scouted the area pretty thoroughly, and the landscape beyond the main road isn’t welcoming to anything too big. I think they moved a considerable distance before picking up a transport.”

“Which way?” Yang asked.

“East.”

“How can you be certain?” she asked.

“This stretch of land is between the sea to the south and the lake to the north, it’s only east or west. I took my time working my way here, so I know they didn’t head for this coast. They went east, I’m sure of it.”

Yang nodded. “How far could they have gotten?”

“A raiding party, even on foot, could cover some serious ground if they were determined. But dragging a group of prisoners?” He bobbed his head back and forth as he considered. “It would have taken them a week, maybe more, to get to Higanbana. If they picked up a ride there, then who knows?”

When he was met with blank stares he sighed and pulled out a map. It was a custom job with detailed notes on travel times, alternate routes, and dangers both manmade and otherwise. He gave them a brief geography lesson as well as a crash course in the messy politics of the loosely held region before folding the map back into its pocket-sized form. Taking a moment to look at the fold of paper he’d no-doubt spent years of his life perfecting, he handed it to Yang. “Here,” he said, with no small amount of strain in his voice. “You’re going to need this more than me.”

Yang took it gingerly, allowing him to examine her hand as she did. “Thank you,” she said, tucking the treasure away in her pocket. “Do you have any idea who might have done this?”

Blink shook his head. “No, the past several months have been chaotic, there are a lot of new players on the board that I haven’t had time to identify yet. In terms of motives, everyone who plays at raiding would want doctors; it’s a dangerous business. Hell, it could have been a roving band of formerly peaceful people cast out of a town that was torched by someone else. I’ve seen it happen. I doubt it though, this was well done, maybe even professional.”

Weiss and Yang grimaced at each other, suddenly realizing how horribly out of their depth they might be. Their worry was interrupted by the sound of the scout’s chair scraping across the floor as he stood. “Alright ladies, I’ve got to go, I’ll be getting out on that ship you came in on, while the gettin’s good.”

“Right,” Yang said. “Thanks for your help.”

“Don’t thank me,” he said with a hearty sigh. “This isn’t exactly something I’m proud of, but I hope it’s enough.” With a tip of his hat and a sad smile, he turned to go. “Take care of each other,” he said as he strode out into the fading light.

“Fuck me,” Yang intoned.

“Eloquent as always,” Weiss said. “But I couldn’t have said it better myself. I don’t have a great feeling about this.”

“It’s a little late to back out now.”

“Who said anything about backing out?” Weiss said, smirking as she took a hearty sip of her substandard beer.

Yang smiled, more than matching Weiss’s false bravado as she finished her own. “Another round?”

Weiss cocked a perfect eyebrow. “Don’t you think we should take it easy?”

“Come on. It’s on the house.”

She considered this. “Fine, but then we should go back to the inn and eat something.”

“Deal!” Yang said, jumping up to fetch their drinks.

One round became two and very nearly became three until Weiss dragged them both out the front door, blinking her eyes as she realized the sun had set at some point, leaving them to zigzag through fading twilight down the street to their inn. The main room wasn’t quite empty, but it was near enough as to make no difference, and the slightly tipsy pair spilled into the first table they came across. A few minutes later the proprietor swept out with two steaming plates heaped with fish and vegetables to drop them in front of her guests.

Weiss looked up in confusion. “Oh, we didn’t order yet-“

“Order? What’s to order?” the woman said, cackling as she returned toward the kitchen. “This is what’s for dinner. Eat or don’t.”

Weiss’s argument died on her lips when she saw there was no one to receive it. The only sign the proprietor had left of her passage was the merrily swinging door she had disappeared through, leaving her guests alone with their thoughts and their food. Weiss took her time examining the mysterious dish, looking up to find Yang with her mouth full and her eyes half-closed as she savored whatever it was. “What?” she asked, swallowing in a single, great gulp. “It’s delicious. If you don’t eat it I will.”

Weiss sighed and took a bite, grudgingly accepting that it was, in fact, rather good, and soon she was eating nearly as eagerly, if far more daintily, than Yang. She surprised herself by finishing her plate, and looked up to find Yang all but licking hers. Weiss rolled her eyes and stood, nearly collapsing back to her seat as the food and booze hit her all at once. She might have been upset, but she was too busy laughing as she saw Yang struggling just as hard. Together they staggered their way up the stairs, making prodigious use of the handrail as the weight of their full stomachs threatened to pull them back down. Somehow, they fought their way to their room, collapsing into their beds and laughing and moaning about how overfull they were, recounting particularly good morsels from the meal that had been thrust upon them.

“I guess we should get some sleep,” Yang said eventually. “Big day tomorrow.”

Weiss looked over at her, taking in her distant gaze. “We’re going to find her.”

“I know.”

“Hey,” she said, waiting until her dear friend turned to look at her. “We will.”

“Yeah,” Yang said, her smile small but just reaching her eyes. “Come on, bedtime.”

“Ok,” Weiss said, reaching for the light switch. “Goodnight.”

*** * * * ***

Blake didn’t look back; she knew Coco wouldn’t intervene and risk blowing their cover. With any luck, she’d update Carmina and Sun and have them standing by. Blake was hoping she wouldn’t need a speedy exit, but knowing the option was there would have been nice. On second thought, it may not have been the best idea to duck out without first discussing her idea with Coco, but there was a good chance that would not have gone well. Coco was likely livid, but she’d get over it. Surely critical intel and an apology would more than make up for brushing her off. Better to beg forgiveness than ask permission after all. Blake just needed to get Oak to talk.

Easy.

It was no different than hounding an important figure for a story, really, so the former journalist put on an air of confidence and strode toward the ring of people currently attending Oak. She elbowed her way in without so much as an apology and waited impatiently for him to notice her. When she finally caught his eye she cocked her head, twitching her ears and the bow around them. She was rewarded with a wide-eyed stare from the politician.

Pushing her doubts aside, she walked over to him and grasped his arm, leaning in close and whispering in his ear, “We need to talk,” before breezing past him toward a door off to the side of the large ballroom. A quick peek revealed an empty hallway beyond, so she stepped through. She didn’t look back but could clearly hear him coughing up his hurried excuses before dashing after her, scurrying through the door behind her the instant it swung shut.

Blake stood impassively while Oak nervously looked around, actual sweat forming along his brow. “Who sent you?” he demanded. “You don’t look like one of Beringer’s thugs.”

“Who sent me doesn’t matter,” Blake bluffed.

Oak narrowed his eyes, looking again at her bow. “White Fang then, fine. It’s all the same. What do you want?”

“I think you know.”

“I’m not here for your fucking games!” he said, fighting to keep his voice from carrying through the doors.

“I assure you,” Blake said, her voice flat. “This is not a game.”

“Look,” he said, his anger dropping as he tried to use some of his practiced charm to cover the fear that remained. “I’m working as fast as I can, but these things take time.”

Sensing an opportunity Blake stepped closer, smiling as though savoring his panic. “I’m not interested in your excuses.”

“Please, I’m begging you, I just need more time. Maybe if you could take care of that stonewaller, Aspis-”

“You misunderstand the situation,” Blake said, growing more sure of herself as she went. “You are in no position to make demands.”

“Of course, of course,” he said, backing away in surrender. “How…how is she?”

Blake’s confidence was shattered by his genuine concern. She had expected many things, but not that, and she had to fight to maintain her composure. “I’m also not here to answer your questions,” she finally managed.

“Please,” he begged. “Please. I need to know that she’s ok.”

The curveball of his request and the unexpected outpouring of fear in his eyes slammed into Blake’s ruse, shattering it. “I-“ she stammered, completely at a loss. “She’s…fine.”

His wide eyes narrowed viciously, the brilliant mind behind them almost visibly at work. “You…have no idea what you’re talking about, do you?”

“Don’t push your luck, Oak,” she warned, but her facade was continuing to crumble, and he was having none of it.

“Son of a bitch.” He shook his head. “You fucking animal scum. You’re fishing for information.”

It was too much. The insult on top of the way he had completely torn apart her disguise was the last straw, and before she could stop herself, Blake’s arm blurred, cracking his jaw with an open palm. His face flew to the side, and when he looked back at her his eyes were full of murder. But then he reached up and touched his lip, laughing as his hand came away bloody.

With a cold look, he showed her the blood, then took a deep breath. “Security!” he bellowed.

The nearby door exploded open as two large men in suits came running through, but Blake was already sprinting down the hall, hitching up her dress and hoping that she wasn’t headed for a dead end. She rounded a corner and spotted an exit, picking up her pace as she raced to the door and burst through it into the night, only to be brought up short. The concrete path ended abruptly in some sort of loading dock for airships. She barely managed to skid to stop, her toes dangling off the edge of a sheer drop long enough that it would certainly kill her, but only after giving her plenty of time to regret every decision she’d ever made once or twice.

“Hey, up here!” came a stage whisper from just above her.

“Sun?” she asked as she looked up and spotted him hanging from the ledge above her head. “What are you doing here?”

“Rescuing you, duh,” he said. “Now take my hand.” She did, and with a slight grunt he hauled her up to where he was perched, getting her clear of the door a few rapid heartbeats before it slammed open.

The security officer who came through looked back into the building. “Where did she go?” he called. Two more sets of footsteps and the panting of a man unused to physical exertion indicated that Oak and his other guard had caught up.

“I don’t know,” his partner said.

The first man turned to Oak. “Sir, who was she? Was she here with someone else?”

“I…her name was Bianca or Felicia, something like that,” he said, failing completely at even approaching her name. “She was with another woman, Aleta,” he added, clearly remembering her perfectly as he gave a very detailed description. Blake bristled, though she couldn’t say quite why.

“I’ll pass that along to the rest of the team, we’ll grab her if she’s still around and find out what she was up to. What was she after?”

“How should I know?” Oak shot back. “That crazy bitch just attacked me out of nowhere.”

There was a pregnant pause. Blake suspected they knew his tendency with young women and found it highly unlikely that she’d had no provocation to hit him. But they were professionals. “We’ll look into sir, and we’ll find her partner.”

“See that you do.”

Before the doors had even closed behind them Blake was already tapping out an urgent message to Coco telling her to get out. She received a terse reply and then tucked away her scroll.

“We need to get out of here,” Sun said, pulling out his own scroll and placing a call.

Minutes later a small ship pulled up alongside the loading dock, opening its side door and extending a ramp. Sun helped Blake down before following nimbly behind. They stepped across the lightly bobbing plank and settled into their seats as the door behind them shut and the ship pulled swiftly away into the night sky. “You two ok?” Carmina asked through the intercom.

“Fine, what about Coco?” Blake asked.

“This isn’t her first rodeo. We’re going to go idle around the fallback point, she’ll be there in fifteen or less,” the pilot responded.

Despite Carmina's confidence, Blake counted out the minutes while nervously looking out the window as the small craft circled a dark neighborhood. She was almost ready to suggest they go back for her when they began spiraling downward. “What are you doing?” she asked.

“Chill,” Carmina chastised. “She sent me a message, she’s down there.”

They approached a quiet little park just big enough for them to touch down, but the only person in sight was a bent figure hobbling in their direction, an old crone who seemed lost. She approached slowly, a shawl obscuring her head but her gait telling the story of her many years. Blake grew worried when it became clear that the old woman was coming straight for them. Then she rapped on the side of the ship, and a laughing Carmina opened the door.

“What-?” Blake began but then noticed a very youthful leg peeking out from under the voluminous skirt as the woman stepped into the ship. “Coco?” she demanded, her jaw dropping.

The crone’s cackle turned into Coco’s laugh as she threw back the shawl and sat back in her seat. “Gotcha,” she said with a wink.

“But, where did you even get all of this?” Blake demanded, gesturing to the clothes that definitely would not have fit in the small handbag she had been carrying all evening.

“A magician never reveals her secrets,” Coco said, winking at Blake’s consternation. “Tell me you got something worthwhile.”

“I…I’m not sure,” Blake admitted.

Coco’s smile fell away. “What does that mean?”

“It means that I’m not sure.”

“You’d best be fucking sure. I was just chased out of a fundraiser by Oak’s private security detail. We’ve completely lost the element of surprise and probably direct access to him at all, so tell me that it was worth it.”

Blake reviewed the conversation. “He’s definitely being blackmailed by Beringer, that much I know.”

“We already knew that, what else?”

“The White Fang is definitely involved.”

“Fine, not exactly groundbreaking but it’s something. What else?”

“It’s not about money,” she said. “He mentioned a woman, or a girl I guess, but it sounds like maybe someone’s being held hostage.”

“Maybe?” Coco exclaimed, pulling off her extra layers. “Maybe? Did he say the word hostage?”

“No, not exactly…”

“Did he say who she was to him?”

“No.”

Coco pinched the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes. “So we know there’s a woman, and he’s worried? Great, that clears everything up.”

“Hey, at least I tried something other than taking him to bed!” Blake retorted, unsure why she was so riled up.

Her misplaced anger was batted aside effortlessly as Coco pulled out a small cloth and began removing the makeup she had obviously applied in something of a hurry to age herself. “I wasn’t actually going to take him to bed,” she scoffed.

“Oh?” Blake asked, simmering a bit.

“Not really my type,” she said.

“Too old?” Sun asked, eager to lighten the mood.

“I mean, yeah…” Coco said, pulling out a mirror to make sure she’d gotten everything off.

Sun considered his next guess. “Too much of an asshole?” he offered.

“There is some truth to that,” she said, her eyes twinkling a bit as she looked up at him.

“He’s a dude,” Carmina said confidently over the speaker.

Coco snapped her mirror shut. “There it is,” she said, as though only just remembering. She looked back at Blake. “Look, you’re right, I was hoping that by making him think I wanted to get into his pants he would let some things drop, and it went nowhere. But sometimes you have to play the long game.”

“We don’t really have time for the long game,” Blake said.

“No,” Coco agreed, but her tone was hard. “But now we have no game at all with Oak.” Blake started to respond, then bit her tongue, looking miserably out the window instead. Coco watched her as she decided what to say next. “Your plan wasn’t bad, but you obviously overreached, am I right?” Blake glared at her but nodded. There was no denying it. Coco pursed her lips. “I’m not going to sugarcoat it for you, we might be screwed now unless Hark and Ivy can bail us out and make something of the sparse intel you gathered.”

Blake tried not to dwell on yet another failure and instead focused on what she could do. “They’re not the only ones who can do some digging,” she said. “If the White Fang is involved, we might have an in.”

“Yeah? You planning on infiltrating the White Fang now?” Coco asked.

“Why not?”

“What makes you so sure you can?”

“I’ve done it before,” Blake said.

Coco’s eyes widened slightly at the claim. “It really is personal with you and them, huh?” When Blake didn’t respond she leaned forward. “Whatever it is, you need to put your shit aside, because you may have already cost us everything, and I don’t need another liability.”

“It’s all ancient history, I can handle myself with the Fang,” Blake insisted.

Coco watched her, weighed her. Finally, she sighed and sat back, defeated. “Ok, normally I’m against vendettas but this one might coincide with our needs. And honestly, I’m not sure we have many other choices at the moment, partially because of you.” Blake took the shot, acknowledging that it was earned. “One thing, though: Sun’s going with you.”

“No-“ Blake began, but Coco cut in.

“I’m not asking. You may not work for me but I also don’t work for you. If you can lose him, go for it, but you can’t tell him to stay behind.”

Blake glared at Sun, who simply smiled and loosened his collar, less than eager to jump in the middle of the war of wills going on around him. 

None of them had noticed their approach to the house, but the slight bump as they touched down interrupted the tension in the small compartment. They climbed out in a thick silence, stepping away as Carmina lifted back off to return the craft. Coco told Sun to go on ahead without them, and he enthusiastically complied.

Coco wheeled on Blake as the door to the house shut behind him. “Look, what you did tonight? That was bullshit. When you’re on my op, you do as I say, got it?”

“But-“

“I’m not asking for your opinion on the matter,” she snapped, staring Blake down until she looked away and nodded. But then the wind seemed to go out of her sails. “I’m not saying your plan was a bad one, but you need to get your head on straight.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means this is all personal for you and you have a tendency of rushing in half-cocked. On top of that, you yelled at me for trying to sleep with the dude. Just so we’re clear, it is absolutely none of your business if that’s how I choose to comport myself inside or outside of the confines of a mission.”

“I didn’t-“

“You did,” Coco corrected. “You absolutely did, and I don’t think it was prudishness, I think you had a little flare of jealousy.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Blake blustered.

Coco placed a hand gently on her shoulder. “I’m not saying you’re in love with me or anything, but your judgment was obviously clouded. Are you going to start refusing to work with Mina any time you see her coming out of my room in the morning?”

“No…I would never, I’m not…” Blake trailed off. But when she thought back to how she had behaved she heaved a sigh. “It’s not even about you, not really,” she said quietly.

“I didn’t think it was,” Coco said, letting her hand drop and looking up at the night sky. “Did you leave someone behind when you came here?”

“Yes.”

“I…know what that’s like.”

“Oh,” Blake said, startled at the confession. “I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”

Coco waved her off. “It was a long time ago.”

“What happened?” 

“Nothing, really. This life just isn’t terribly conducive to long-term, stable relationships.” Her thoughtful sigh betrayed her lie, but Blake didn’t press. “Want my advice?”

“Why does everyone ask that as though they aren’t going to give it anyway?”

Coco blew out a sharp breath, almost but not quite a laugh. “Whoever it is, the person from your past who’s haunting you? Let her go.”

Blake stared at her, reading the lines of sadness written clearly across her otherwise smooth face. “Is that what you did?”

Coco looked away. “No,” she whispered. “But I learned to live with the memory rather than for it.” She drew a breath to steady herself. “Don’t let your past get you killed, that would be a terrible waste, and I would mourn you. But make no mistake,” she said, stepping closer to Blake, her lovely face made terrible by her intensity. “If your feelings get one of my people killed, I will end you.”

Without another word she spun and strode into the house, throwing the door wide and greeting everyone brightly as she stepped inside. Blake lingered, thinking about the harsh words she had more than earned, and staring up at the stars burning away in the sky above. She couldn’t help but wonder what the sky looked like where Yang was. And if she was sleeping, of what did she dream?

If the stars knew the answers to any of her questions, they weren’t of a mind to share. After casting her plea into the void, hoping that some echo of her love would reach its target, Blake sulked her way into the house. If sleep came for her at all that night, she prayed it would carry the sound of the voice her ears longed for, the sight of flowing golden locks and lilac eyes, and the remembered heat of smooth skin as it pressed tightly against Blake’s own.

Instead, it brought only darkness.


	14. The Road Ahead

Yang was up at first light, her eyes snapping open well before her alarm could sound. Her sleep had been blissfully bereft of dreams, more akin to a silent meditation in a dark cave than the savage hallucinations with which she was usually greeted.

She eased herself upright and stretched both arms overhead, rolling her shoulders and neck to drive away the stiffness of sleeping on another unfamiliar bed, all the while trying not to think about what her accommodations would be that night. The worn floorboards protested softly as she padded across the room, passing through the golden light streaming through the shutters of their lone window on her way to Weiss’s sleeping form. Gingerly, she reached out, opting at the last moment to rest her left hand lightly on the gently rising and falling shoulder. The moment she did she was met with a sharp inhale and a fluttering of ice-blue eyes, confused at first but focusing as they looked up at Yang. She moved on with a silent nod, letting Weiss come fully awake on her own while she repacked her small bag and double-checked their provisions. When she was done, she looked up at Weiss. “Ready?”

“Yes,” her friend replied, her voice low and raspy but her eyes alert as she finished her own preparations. “Let’s go.”

They walked down the stairs, trying not to make too much noise as they did, but as they passed through the common room on the ground floor they saw they hadn’t been the first ones up. There was no sign of the laughing woman who ran the place, but a pot of coffee and a bowl of assorted fruit stood in the middle of the room with a note encouraging them to partake. Not waiting to be asked twice, they filled a couple of mugs and gulped down the steaming coffee that was strong enough to call into question its claim of being a liquid, meaning it was exactly what the early risers wanted. On the whole, it wasn’t the famed breakfast the sign out front had promised, but it received no complaints. After selecting a few choice fruits to go, they stopped by the vacant counter, dropped their key in the checkout box, and walked out onto the street.

The rising sun had yet to make an appearance down at ground level, blocked as it was by trees and the rising hills to the east. Without its warming rays, the steady breeze coming in off the water carried more chill than either had expected, and both shivered slightly while they stashed their gear in the saddlebags of the bike. Yang pulled out a towel and wiped down the dew that had coated the seat, then she fired up the engine, regretting that it would likely wake everyone on the block but unwilling to depart without letting it warm up a bit.

She performed one last sweep of the bike to make sure it was ready to go, listening to its beautiful roar all the while, then double and triple checked that the precious map she had been given was tucked safely in her jacket. When she was ready she nodded to Weiss and held the bike while she gracefully mounted, following immediately after. The engine barked and growled as she feathered the throttle a few times, and when she was confident in her sense of it she squeezed the clutch and stomped the gear lever down to first. She spared one last glance over her shoulder for the small town, then looked at the determined woman leaning up against her back before turning to the road ahead. The clutch eased out under her fingers while the opposite wrist twisted the throttle, propelling them out onto the hard-packed dirt road in a controlled acceleration fitting for the expert rider Yang was.

The bike soon reached the base of the hill and began the snaking climb up its face, Yang leaning confidently through each turn as she set an aggressive pace. Weiss slowly came to trust her, though not quite enough to loosen her firm grip around her waist. A crooked grin snuck onto Yang’s face as she pushed the bike up the hill, racing the sun itself to the top and only slowing when the brilliant orb flashed above the ridge and temporarily blinded her.

She laughed and blinked and pulled to the side of the path, propping the bike up with a leg while she fished out her aviators and settled them in place. She glanced back as Weiss flicked on her own stylish yet understated shades, looking like a movie star trying and failing to be inconspicuous, and laughed again as she spun around to take in the landscape sprawling out below them. Loose clumps of forest dotted the rolling hills, occasionally obscuring the meandering road beneath a leafy canopy. In many ways, it reminded her of home, but something about it felt…bigger. She knew that was silly, the view to the horizon was the same in Anima as anywhere else, but she couldn’t deny the sensation of being a tiny fish that was dropped suddenly and somewhat violently into a vast ocean. A gentle pat of understanding on her shoulder reminded her she wasn’t alone, though, and after confirming they were both ready she kicked the gear lever and started down the hill into the sea of green.

\--

The ride quickly settled toward pleasantly dull. Weiss found she wasn’t bored, exactly, but rather lulled into a gentle trance by the hum of the engine and passing scenery. Yang had been somewhat tense at first, leaning mechanically into turns and staying rigidly focused, but as the miles blurred past Weiss felt her relax, her body loosening and her adjustments to the bike coming more fluidly. The experienced rider’s comfort spread into Weiss, and she found herself rather enjoying the noisy tear across the countryside.

She had been to Mistral several times growing up. She had even spent time in some of the larger settlements spread throughout the countryside. Her father had occasionally brought the family there as he sought out a wealthy cohort whose view of government mirrored his own, and whose pockets were filled with investable cash. But for all the times they’d visited, she hadn’t spent any time in the vast wilderness she was now passing through. As a child she’d only visited places that represented an opportunity for her father to make money or show off his talented heir; everything else was superfluous.

The scenery, beautifully bucolic though it was, did grow somewhat monotonous, and Weiss found her mind wondering. Or rather, she found her mind honing in on the reason she was blasting down a dirt road in the wilderness in the first place: Ruby. Everywhere she looked, Ruby’s face appeared. She even swore she saw little flashes of red and brown between the trees, as though Ruby were keeping pace with them, just out of sight. Weiss shook her head, pushing out the phantom images. She looked at the stolid woman in front of her and wondered if she was seeing the same things.

Yang seemed far calmer than she would have expected, but having singular goals seemed to have that effect on her. Weiss was heartened to see she had left her sleeve up, showing her arm in all its glory, but was still worried. She hadn’t said anything, but Yang had called out at least three times in the night, once for Blake. Each time, Weiss had held her breath and waited for Yang to wake up, confused and afraid, but each instance had been followed by a slumbering silence, so she had thought it best to let her sleep. Weiss felt the placid calm radiating off of Yang’s body, and wondered if she herself knew how much turbulence there was roiling below the surface.

Yang pulled off under a loose copse of trees sometime around midday. “This looks like as good a place as any for lunch,” she said, climbing somewhat stiffly off the seat.

Weiss nearly stumbled as she uncurled her cramped legs to slide off, catching herself just before Yang could. “I suppose I could use a bit of a stretch, and…” she said, looking around miserably.

Yang let out a bubble of laughter that started from her belly. “You’re going to have to get used to peeing in the woods, princess.”

Weiss fixed her with a withering stare, though it seemed to have just the opposite effect. “I know that, I was just…looking,” she said, stomping off into the trees until she was well out of sight of the road.

Weiss returned, battling to keep the embarrassment from her face. It was clearly a lost cause, however, as Yang took one look at her over the canteen she’d been drinking from and burst out laughing again. Weiss scowled and held out her hand, and Yang managed to pass the water to her while she coughed and sputtered in her mirth.

They took their time eating, enjoying the chance to stretch and walk around in the dappled shade of the trees. “Mind if I take a look at the map?” Weiss asked. Yang nodded over a mouthful of bread and fished it out, then strolled over to the bike to kick the tires and look it over. Weiss didn't know the first thing about motorcycles, but given the long, hot ride and the lack of any nearby mechanics, she was certainly glad that Yang did. “Looks like we should make the next town before nightfall,” Weiss announced, reading the notes scrawled on the map and pleased to see they had covered quite a few miles already. “Odamaki.”

“Yeah, I was hoping we might if we made good time,” Yang replied, looking at various gauges, tapping one a few times and shrugging her acceptance of its reading. “If Blink was right and they walked to Higanbana, we might even be able to catch up with them there.”

“He did seem to know what he was talking about,” Weiss said, biting her lip. “But three weeks is a long time, a lot can change.”

“True, but it’s the best we’ve got.”

Weiss folded the map back down and passed it to Yang. “I know, but I just think we should be prepared for all eventualities.”

“Right now we just need to get to Shion. We’ll worry about eventualities later.”

“Yeah,” Weiss agreed slowly. “No, I know.”

“Ready to get back on the road?”

“Sure.”

They stopped for dinner when their bellies could be heard growling over the sound of the engine and ate quickly. The rolling fields had given way some time ago to forest, so despite the early hour the light trickling down to them was fading fast. Yang consulted the map after they’d eaten. “Looks like we’re no more than twenty miles out from Odamaki, should be there in no time.”

“Perfect,” Weiss said, eyeing the dying light and rising to her feet. “No reason to waste our time out here if there’s a warm bed waiting. Oh, and maybe a hot shower,” she added, her eyes staring dreamily off toward the horizon and the magic of plumbing.

“We’ve literally been on the road for twelve hours, you cannot possibly miss civilization already.”

“You wouldn’t understand,” Weiss said, her eyes twinkling above her smirk. “It’s hard to miss something you’ve never really experienced.”

Yang chuckled and Weiss flashed a self-deprecating smile. Even if she didn’t always enjoy being reminded of what she’d been like when she’d first met Ruby and Yang, she did enjoy making them laugh by feigning a return to her haughty ways. Yang waved her over, her shoulders still shaking, and they mounted up. Then they turned their backs to the dappled light of the setting sun and covered the last miles of the day.

Or they tried to, at least. They only made it a handful of those miles before they were stopped. Up ahead several trees lay strewn across their path, making it completely impassable. Yang stared at the blockage in consternation for a few moments before killing the engine and setting the kickstand. She swung herself off the bike and walked to the tangle of trees.

Weiss joined her moment later. “What do we do?” she asked.

Yang shook her head. “Not much we can do. There’s no path through these trees that I can see. We’re going to have to push Bumblebee through the woods to go around.”

“How long will that take?”

“No clue, depends on how unforgiving the path is,” she said, looking around at the dense and shadowy vegetation on either side. “Doesn’t matter much right now though, we can’t even try it in this light.”

Weiss’s lip curled involuntarily, but she forced herself to remember that this is what she had signed up for. “Fine, so we camp here tonight?”

“I guess,” Yang said slowly, looking around. “But something about this doesn’t feel right. Blink must have just passed through here on his way to the coast and he didn’t mention anything blocking the path.”

“Maybe there was a storm?”

“Maybe,” she said, peering into the woods on either side before shaking her head in frustration. “Let’s get out of the middle of the road and look for an open patch of grass so we can at least try to get some sleep. I’ll gather some wood for a fire.”

Weiss nodded and looked around, startled at how quickly night was falling in the midst of the forest. While she searched she heard a loud creak followed by a mighty snap and glanced over to see Yang holding a large branch she had just wrenched off of one of the felled trees, seeming quite pleased with the result of her little experiment.

It didn’t take long for her to amass a respectable pile of wood, which she dropped next to the ring of stones Weiss had constructed hastily in a small clearing just off the side of the road. Yang fished through her bag and came up with a small flint set, then went about lighting a clump of dry leaves at the center of her kindling. She had a few false starts, but she managed to get a spark to catch, and presently they had a happy little fire roaring away.

In their attempt to fend off the darkness they fed the fire a little too eagerly, and soon found themselves with a dwindling supply of wood. Yang smiled guiltily when she noticed. “I’ll go get some more, hang tight.” Weiss waited nervously, left alone in their small bubble of light. Somehow it seemed that their feeble scrap of a fire did more to enhance the darkness than dispel it, and Weiss found herself growing increasingly agitated that she wasn’t hearing the expected sound of Yang tearing off new branches. Instead, her ears were filled with the thudding of rapidly approaching footsteps, and she leaped to her feet just as Yang ran back into the halo of light. “You need to come see this!” she said, her voice strained.

Bewildered, Weiss offered no argument, simply following as she was instructed. Yang pulled out her scroll at the first felled tree and turned on the flash, reaching out for the leafy branches in front of them and pulling them back. “Look,” she hissed.

Weiss looked, and for a moment she didn’t understand why the ringed surface was so important. Then it hit her. She gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. “They were cut,” she whispered.

“Yeah.”

“This could be a trap.”

“Probably.”

“What do we do?”

Yang looked at her, mystified. “How the fuck should I know? You think we covered dealing with roadside traps in one of my engineering classes?”

“No, but…I don’t know, you used to fight and be around ruffians all the time, didn’t something like this come up?”

“What? No!”

“Well, I don’t know!”

Yang put her hand to her forehead and worked through options. “We could try to go back a ways, but honestly they probably have someone waiting to stop us and I’d rather not risk the bike in the dark. We already started a fire, so if they’re watching then they know where we are. The only thing we can do is sit tight and hope they aren’t coming.”

“That’s it? Hope?”

Yang shrugged. “And sleep in shifts. You assured me that you know how not to get captured, time to prove it.”

“I…fine. I’ll even take the first watch,” Weiss said, holding herself up to her full, if unimpressive, height. “You get more firewood, I’ll head back and keep a lookout.”

“Don’t stare into the fire, it’ll ruin your night vision,” Yang said to her as she turned to go.

“I know that,” she snapped, though she definitely hadn’t considered it.

A few minutes later Yang joined her back at the fire, stacking an armload of wood just beyond the ring of stones and tossing a few logs into the glowing embers. “This should be enough to get us through the night,” she said, stretching out on the grass and staring up at the sky.

“Who do you think set this little trap, assuming it is one?” Weiss asked, her back to the flames as she peered out into the night.

“Hard to say, the map has a whole bunch of factions listed and it sounds like things are pretty rough out here in general. If they were a true military force I expect they wouldn’t bother with something this crude though. Bandits maybe?”

“Bandits? Really? What is this a cartoon?” Weiss scoffed.

“Fine, then what’s your theory?”

“I…I’m still working on that,” she said, hating how small and helpless she felt. “This is not exactly how I imagined spending my time after earning my law degree.”

Yang blew out a low laugh. “I bet. Congratulations on that, by the way.”

Weiss smiled into the darkness. “Thanks. It feels kind of trivial right now, given where we are, but, yeah, I worked hard.”

“Maybe you’ll be able to convince these assholes to leave us alone by threatening to sue.”

Weiss laughed despite herself. “Shut up, jerk. More like I’ll have to defend you in court after you punch every guy in Anima who dares to look at you funny.”

“Whoa whoa whoa, I’m insulted,” Yang joked. “I’d punch a girl if she looked at me funny too.”

“Great, twice as many complaints.”

Yang grinned. “I guess I can try to reign it.”

Weiss looked at the threatening shadows of the trees surrounding them. “Not too far, we may need those fists of yours before long.”

Yang hummed her agreement as she settled in. “I’m going to try to get some sleep. Wake me if you hear anything or when you want to switch, whichever comes first.”

“Will do. Goodnight.”

“‘Night.”

*** * * * ***

Blake realized the moment she stepped into the subdued kitchen that news had spread of the debacle with Oak the night before, and she pointedly ignored several looks as she collected her plate from Yatsu and found an open seat. Coco and Carmina arrived last. They weren’t even trying to hide what had kept them, and they remained conspicuously draped on one another until they absolutely needed to part to grab food and sit down. Blake hated that her cheeks burned at the sight, and try as she might the best she could manage was to look down and focus on her food. It didn’t take long for everyone to finish their meals, there was little conversation to slow them down. When forks started falling in their final resting places, Coco stood up, all business. “Hark, what do you have for me?”

Harkin looked up, his eyes ringed with exhaustion. “I pulled as many threads as I could last night, no luck with Oak. His mother is long dead, he and his wife never had any children, no siblings or cousins. Whoever he was referring to by ‘she’ is off the books, way off.”

“You think it’s a mistress?”

Hark shrugged. “Could be, but that’s a blind guess at this point.”

“Ivy, anything to add?” Coco asked, turning and finding Ivy’s nose deep in Beringer’s journal. “Ivy?” she repeated.

“Sorry, what?” the woman said, looking up and blinking her eyes.

“Anything to add on Oak?” Coco asked again, her voice even.

“Given the odd coding around his ledger entry, it would certainly make sense that it’s about a person. Unfortunately, it’s a really complicated note with several additions and references to other entries, so it’s nontrivial to decode it.”

“References to other entries?” Coco asked, intrigued.

“Oh, yes. It refers to two other entries that crop up a lot. One that’s also fairly complicated, and another that just indicates money owed. Weirdly the sign on the money owed is negative, that only shows up in a few other places.”

“Sounds like Beringer owes someone else money,” Coco said, storing away this new tidbit.

Ivy’s hand stopped twitching long enough to land on her own forehead. “Yes, of course. Thank you, that was driving me crazy.”

“Thank you, Ivy,” Coco said. “Keep at it, but don’t forget to sleep and eat. Hark, thoughts on who he’d owe?”

“Seems like he’d have to pay the Death’s Messengers, right?” Hark said.

Coco nodded. “One would assume so. Progress on that front?”

“I’ve got confirmation both that they’re here and somewhere west of Oniyuri, so split forces it is.”

“Wonderful, any updates on Beringer or what he’s planning?”

“No,” Hark said, shaking his head. “When RLIC was outed the agent we had on the inside was revealed. I think he made it out alive, but since then Beringer has locked down his organization, doubly so since he got robbed.” Blake looked away guiltily as his eyes sought hers. “Getting any intel out has been impossible since then.”

“There must be a way,” Coco insisted.

“He does have a weakness for pretty women,” Hark offered.

“Shocking,” Coco said. “But I can work with that.”

“I suppose I should specify,” Hark cut in. “He has a weakness for pretty faunus women.”

This time everyone turned to Blake, who sighed. “I...may have burned that bridge already.”

“Of course you did,” Coco said, a fake smile hanging on her face. “I’ll figure something out.”

“You’re not planning on pretending to be a faunus, are you?” Blake demanded.

“Not my first plan, but I will if I have to. Got a problem with that?”

“Of course I have a problem with that!” she retorted. “It’s horrifically offensive, not to mention wrong. You can’t-”

“If I were a college kid going to a party or I had any other option, you would have an excellent point,” she retorted, her jaw a block of stone. “But it’s either I pretend to be a faunus or Sun tries on a wig.”

“I mean…” Sun began, smiling and hoping to cut the tension.

Coco was having none of it. “Look, I said I’ll figure it out. I’m not going to pretend that it’s something I’m overly proud to be considering, but I’ll have to hope that saving the world is sufficient penance for any transgression. Besides, don’t you have a mission of your own?”

Blake looked down, biting back her outrage and trying to focus on what mattered. “Yes,” she said finally. “Hark? What do you know about local White Fang recruiting efforts?”

Hark looked at Coco, only responding when she nodded for him to do so. “They’ve gotten bold in the past few days. They used to stick to the shadows and recruit slowly to prevent infiltration by local law enforcement. They’ve operated in the open out in the distant settlements since Beacon Tower fell, but the breaking of the treaty coincided with their efforts becoming all but publicly advertised in Mistral itself. There are recruiting events almost every night, I could get you info on tonight’s if you want it.”

“I do,” Blake said.

“Ok, but to what end?” Hark asked.

“We know the White Fang is involved with Beringer, and Oak assumed I was White Fang at the party last night. I think they might be involved in the blackmail scheme that’s got him working around the clock to start a war.”

“So you’re going to get in and try to find out what it is from the inside,” Hark said. “That’s not a bad idea.”

“No, it’s not,” Coco agreed. “Sun’s with Blake,” she announced to the group, ignoring Blake’s sulking as well as Sun’s bright smile. “Updates from anyone else?”

Jay, Yatsu, and Aqua assured her that if anyone tried to make a move on the house they would regret it, adding that several emergency escape routes had been established. Yatsu passed out small earpieces that he promised would give them encrypted short-range communications that didn’t rely on the CCT network. He warned them that they wouldn’t work all that well underground or through the mountain to the other side of Mistral, but otherwise should be perfect for missions. Coco told everyone to wear them whenever they left the house but was looking pointedly at Blake when she did.


	15. The Welcoming Committee

Yang was flying.

Or was she riding her motorcycle?

No, flying, definitely flying.

Why was Weiss behind her?

The images came fast and jumbled, but in the end, she found Adam, as she knew she would. He was always there, waiting. She could feel his hateful eyes on her through the slits in his mask, and as he drew his gun she pounced, hoping that just this once she would be in time-

“Yang, wake up.”

_No._

“You’re dreaming, please, you’re making too much noise.”

_NO!_

“Yang-“

“No!” she shouted, bolting upright and seizing the fingers grasping her shoulder.

“Yang, you’re hurting me,” Weiss hissed.

She immediately released the pale hand, looking at her own in horror. “I’m so sorry-“

“Stop,” Weiss said, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, releasing it through her nose while she shook out her hand. “I’m fine. But you’re not. You were shouting in your sleep again.”

Yang sat up and turned away from her friend, hanging her head in shame. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled.

“I know, and it’s ok, I’m not mad,” Weiss said, her voice studiously level. “Same dream as always?” Yang didn’t respond beyond a quick bob of her head. “I really think we should talk about…what happened. It might be good for you.”

Yang scoffed. “Now?”

“No, not now, obviously,” Weiss snapped, stopping to take another steadying breath. “But soon. For now, we have to hope that you at least convinced whoever’s out there that we’re too crazy to be worth attacking.”

“Think I should yell a little more, add to the effect?”

“I think we’re good, but I appreciate the offer,” Weiss deadpanned. She settled her hand on Yang’s shoulder. It fell, light as the first leaf of autumn, but was still enough to send a jolt of fear through Yang’s body. It was all she could do to keep from crying out again as adrenaline continued to pump through her veins. She heard Weiss inhale as though to speak, but all that followed was a sigh. She repeated the exercise, but whatever was on her mind didn’t seem to want to pass her lips. Yang’s face burned. Whatever admonishment Weiss had been about to offer was probably less than she deserved. She may have all but signed their death certificates with her yelling.

Finally, Weiss found her voice. “Ok, it’s a little after one, I’m going to get some sleep before sunrise.”

“Sounds good,” Yang replied, rising stiffly to her feet. After placing another log on the remains of the fire she paced to the edge of its light to look out into the shadows.

She prowled the perimeter for the rest of the night, telling herself the pounding in her ears was from nerves rather than violent anticipation. She was protecting Weiss, protecting them both, not itching for a fight. That was the Dragon’s territory, and the Dragon was dead, or so Yang had decided. That part of her had only ever brought pain and grief anyway. Then again, it had also provided the best escape she had ever known, and what she needed now more than anything was escape.

She looked down at her new hand as she clenched it into a menacing fist. Throwing herself into her work had helped, but it could never drown out the anguish and emptiness that rang hollow in her chest, the pain that drove her to run for miles and miles through the empty streets at night, hoping that exhaustion would bring a peace that never came. And there was no work here. None for a scientist anyway.

Plenty for a fighter.

She felt the heat of the fire on her back echoed in the pit of her stomach. The flame within still lived; if anything it built faster on the ample supply of suppressed rage she had from months of shutting herself off from it. She grinned as she thought about the asshole in the bar, how good it had felt to roll his pathetic punch, the satisfaction of driving her fist into him. How, for just a moment, she hadn’t been afraid. How she’d felt like the one to be feared again.

It felt damn good.

Yang spared a glance back at the actual fire and the sleeping form beyond and quelled the dark urges rising within her. She needed to remain in control. The idea of hurting Weiss, or anyone she cared about, was unthinkable, and she very nearly had without meaning to. With promises to release it when necessary, she forced her mounting anger back into its cage, listening to its howls of protest, her howls of protest, and hoping that when the time was right it would still be there to lend her strength.

The night passed without incident, much to her disappointment (gratitude, definitely gratitude), and just before dawn, she reached down and gently patted Weiss to wake her. Yang waited for her to blink her eyes back to some semblance of focus, then flashed her a smile. “Morning,” she whispered. Weiss grumbled something in response, and Yang chuckled. “Yeah, yeah. Take your time, we’ve got a long day ahead. I’ll be right back,” she said, then walked out into the woods to find a quiet bush.

\--

Weiss lay for a moment, still confused by the brightening sky. She was sure she hadn’t slept at all in the rocky dirt, but the jarring passage of time claimed otherwise. She vaguely noted Yang walking out into the woods, and sleepily contemplated what food they might have left for breakfast. The thought barely took on a coherent shape before a man leaped out of the bushes across the road, sprinting directly for her. She fought to sit upright, reaching desperately for one of the many knives tucked away in her jacket, but someone grabbed her ponytail and yanked her head back down to the ground, pinning her on her back and leaving her looking up into the leering face of a young and rather dirty woman.

A slight pressure at her throat told her that the wretch had a knife of her own, and Weiss cursed herself for getting distracted. Soon the woman’s face was joined by the man who had rushed her, standing calmly over her with his heavily muscled and tattooed arms crossed over an open vest. “Well, well, well,” he said, looking down at Weiss with his brutish eyes as though she were a particularly tasty morsel at a buffet. “What have we here?”

“What we have,” Weiss said, shifting slightly and holding her breath when the knife was pressed a little harder into her neck. “Is a problem if you don’t let me up immediately.”

“Oh?” the man asked, all innocence and mock concern. “And why’s that?”

“Because my friend is going to come back and knock your stupid teeth out.”

The man feigned a gasp. “You mean the crazy blonde chick who talks in her sleep?” he asked with a chuckle. “I think she’ll find herself otherwise occupied.” As if on cue, Yang shouted in alarm from a short distance off before her voice was cut off by the sounds of a struggle.

The man gestured toward the violent rustling to highlight his point and smiled down at her. “So, we’re going to take all your stuff, especially that fancy bike of yours, and you’re going to let us,” he said, pulling out a large knife of his own and playing with it absentmindedly. “Otherwise, things will get…ugly,” he finished, dangling the knife’s point precariously above Weiss’s nose. “I think we understand each other.” He stood, tucking his knife away with a self-satisfied smirk, then looked up and gasped. A sudden rush of air seemed to indicate he was gaping at something large headed his way. Quickly.

Weiss didn’t wait to see what hit him. Instead, she used the distraction to reach up and snatch the knife from the woman holding her down, thrusting the point of it up and just inside her gaping mouth. Not enough to make contact, but enough to make the woman’s eyes go wide as she immediately released her grip on Weiss’s hair and put her hands up, allowing her former captive to rise gracefully to her feet.

Weiss looked behind her and was surprised to see two men untangling themselves on the ground. It took her a beat to realize that the stocky newcomer had been the projectile. They wobbled to their feet in the grey, predawn light as crashing sound announced the final arrival, and Weiss looked up to see Yang.

But not the Yang she knew.

Maybe it was the reflection of the embers, or the shadows still gathered around her, but those normally peaceful lilac eyes were burning a terrible red, and her face burned with such intensity that even Weiss quailed before it. The angry deity shaped like Yang stalked into the clearing, a predatory smile splitting her lips as her left hand dipped briefly into her jacket, reappearing shod in what looked at first to be thick, golden rings.

\--

Yang strode out into the clearing, or perhaps the Dragon did. Either way, she glanced at Weiss as she advanced, noting with pleasure that she seemed to have her attacker in hand, and squared up to the two remaining goons, wriggling her brass knuckles into place while sizing them up. The one who had initially snuck up on her sprung first. He obviously hoped to catch her flat-footed but failed miserably. His attack was so disorganized that Yang didn’t even bother falling into a fighting stance. Her hand blurred as she dismissed him with a backhanded swipe, only remembering at the last moment to slow it enough so the plating didn’t shatter his jaw as she knocked him spinning to the ground. Before his partner could react she lashed out with the same hand, grabbing his collar and lifting him just off of his feet, cocking her left back and staring coldly into his eyes.

“Yang!”

The syllable echoed in her ears, taking a moment to register as a name belonging to her, and she turned without lowering her prey to look at the one who had called it. Weiss still had her opponent by the scruff of the neck, but she had dropped the hand holding the knife to her side. Yang was about to admonish her for letting her guard down, but then she saw tears and snot streaming down the face of the woman in her grasp, hands in the air as she cowered helplessly.

She turned back in confusion to the man dangling from her fist and saw him raising his beefy arms to display large, calloused hands in a sign of surrender, the dirt on his face streaking as well. “Are you crying?” Her lips curled and eyes narrowed as she looked for the trap.

“N-no!” he shouted, sniffling conspicuously.

Yang dropped him in disgust, then looked over as the final attacker raised his hands as well, trembling on his knees and working his jaw gingerly under the beginnings of a large bruise. Yang’s mind reeled. She had been so keyed up for a fight, a real fight, that the crumbling bunch before her left her completely speechless. The silence was cut by the muffled roar of an engine approaching from the far side of the blockade of trees.

“Shit!” the man ( _more of a boy really_ , Yang realized) cried as he sprang to his feet and turned to run. He made it less than a step before he was brought down hard from behind, landing none too gently on his tailbone. He looked up at the same black and yellow arm that had knocked him silly the first time as it clutched his collar, and he groaned and cast his eyes down in defeat.

Yang shook her head and let go, turning to wait for whoever it was that was coming. She was in no mood to run or take any reasonable precautions against attack. The hum of the motor cut off a few moments later and the sound of shifting foliage took its place. 

“If you’re here to rob us get in line!” Yang called.

“Excuse me?” replied a muffled woman’s voice, the pace of the shifting branches increasing.

Presently, she stepped out from behind the final tree, a lean frame visible under plain and sturdy clothes, her face deeply tanned beneath her wide-brimmed hat and set with a pair of sharp hazel eyes. The hair pulled back tight behind her head was dark and shot through with grey, and despite the ease with which she moved, the lines around her eyes spoke of seeing quite a few seasons come and go. “What’s going on here?” she demanded, looking at the cowering trio and the pair of strangely dressed and strangely calm women. “Did you two attack them?”

“Attack them?” Yang cried. “They attacked us!”

“Clay? Is this true?” she demanded, looking at the nearest boy, no more than nineteen now that Yang looked more closely.

“No!” he shouted.

“Oh shut up,” the girl, now released from Weiss’s grasp, interrupted.

“Ama?” the woman asked as though demanding to know which child had stolen the cookie jar.

“We attacked them,” she said, dropping her head to her chest.

“It was Ash’s idea!” Clay said, pointing at the third member of their miserable little group, still rubbing his jaw tenderly.

“Shut up, no it wasn’t!” he responded as he massaged his tender face.

“All of you quiet down!” the woman shouted, rubbing her temples as she sighed at the mess. “Are you two ladies ok?” she asked, looking from Yang to Weiss.

“We’re fine,” Weiss replied.

“I take it you were headed for Odamaki?”

“Yes.”

The woman looked at the cowering trio. “I came out here on a report that trees were down in the road. You three have something to do with that as well?” she asked, clearly knowing the answer before they all nodded silently. “Unbelievable,” she said. “There’s going to be hell to pay when we get back to town. Get over to the other side, use my truck to get this mess opened up enough to pass.”

“But-“ Clay began.

“Now!”

The commanding voice of the woman cowed the youths, and their arguments died on their lips. They turned as one and dragged their feet toward the blockade, then started making their way laboriously through the tangle of trees.

“You’re just going to let them go like that? What if they steal your truck?” Yang demanded.

The woman laughed and shook her head. “They wouldn’t dare,” she said holding out her hand. “Sheriff Yew, at your service.” The travelers took her hand in turn and introduced themselves. She looked curiously at Yang’s hand as it enveloped her own, but asked no questions and so received no answers. “I’m sorry about what those kids did, though it seems you handled it just fine.”

“Local troublemakers?” Yang asked.

“Not usually,” the sheriff said, taking off her hat and fussing with the brim before replacing it. “Clay and Amaranth’s parents own a farm just outside town, Ash grew up helping out there, no real family of his own.”

“So what are they doing out trying to rob travelers?” Weiss said, offering the crude knife she had taken to the sheriff, handle first.

She took it with a grim nod of thanks. “You gotta understand, things are always hard this far from Mistral,” she said. “But ever since that tower went down we’ve been cut off, and there are lots of people who have apparently been waiting for something like that. Villages and towns all over have been raided recently. Mostly just stealing things, but killing and kidnapping from time to time. Makes towns real uneasy about outsiders.”

“Uneasy enough to attack them on the road?” Yang said, crossing her arms.

The sheriff sighed. “Their farm got hit a few weeks back, someone stole most of their livestock, killed the rest. Trampled the hell out of their fields on their way out. The whole town’s trying to figure something out, but it’s not like we got a lot to go around, and more than likely they’ll have to sell come winter. These kids are just trying to help in their own way. It was wrong, and I’ll make sure they know it, but you can’t blame them for being desperate.” Yang scowled, the adrenaline still left in her system not inclining her toward forgiveness, but let the matter drop.

“We understand,” Weiss said earnestly.

“Good, I really appreciate that,” Sheriff Yew said. “Once these kids get the trees moved aside we’ll get you into town. Anything you need we’ll provide, on the house.”

“Oh no, we couldn’t…”

“Nonsense, it’s the least we can do. Times may be tough but we aren’t savages.”

Weiss nodded her thanks as the sheriff worked her way back toward her truck to help while Yang returned to the bike to make sure everything was in order. Several minutes and plenty of grunting and shouting and engine revving later, the trees were shifted just enough to push the bike through. The three would-be robbers waited on the other side, their shoulders slumped and eyes downcast as they mumbled out apologies.

The sheriff unhooked the winch from the last tree and stowed it in the back of her truck, then looked up the sulking youths. “Alright, I expect these trees cleared by tomorrow morning. Once that’s done I expect to see you in my office. Since you have so much free time on your hands I’m going to come up with some useful ways for you to spend it. There are a few projects that need doing around town.”

“But, how are we going to clear these trees without your truck?” Ash cried as Yew climbed in the cab.

“Not my problem!” the sheriff replied. “You made the mess, you figure out how to clean it up. Just remember, the longer you take to finish the longer I have to come up with new things for you to do when you get back.” She didn’t wait for a reply before closing the door and starting the engine on her old but well-kept pickup. Sticking her hand out the window, she waved for Yang to follow as she set off down the road.

They reached the village after the better part of an hour of dusty riding, pulling in behind the sheriff at a small one-story building clad in wooden siding with flaking white paint. The sign hanging beside the door was the only indication the building was intended for law enforcement, proclaiming it with a faded star and the name of the sheriff on a separate board hanging below: Sylvia Yew.

The building was situated at one end of a small main street that led to a quaint little square, probably the site of a market when there were things to sell and money to buy, but neither of those seemed to be in abundance at the moment. The rest of the street, more of a path really, was lined with small buildings similar to the sheriff’s but varying in the color of their peeling paint and the size and contents of their dirty windows. A few people were out and about, but not enough to make their arrival inconspicuous.

“Don’t mind the stares,” the sheriff murmured as she met them by the now silenced bike. “I’ll show you around town and introduce you to a few folks, they’ll calm down.”

“If you say so,” Yang said, looking at the mistrustful eyes pointed their way.

“You two staying the night?”

Yang shook her head. “We really need to get moving. We’re trying to get to Shion and this morning’s…incident, cost us enough time already.”

The sheriff pursed her lips, doing an internal calculation. “Assuming that bike of yours can cover distance like my truck can, you’re looking at a day and a half to get there.”

“That’s also assuming no one dropped any trees across the path,” Yang added.

Sheriff Yew took her snide remark in stride. “Indeed. Still, if you leave now you might roll up at night, which wouldn’t be the best idea.”

“Why?”

“You think people are nervous of outsiders here? Shion is twice as bad. They’ve been hit harder than most by raids, so a couple of travelers showing up late at night might not receive the warmest of welcomes.” She watched as Weiss and Yang looked at each other uncertainly. “I’m going to go take care of some paperwork,” she offered. “You take your time and figure out what you’re going to do.” With a tip of her hat, she walked inside, the screen door creaking open to admit her and banging shut behind.

“What do you think?” Weiss asked once she was gone.

Yang paused while she pulled out their map and opened it. “Based on the notes here, she’s probably right. We’re going to be camping out no matter what and we probably wouldn’t make it there before dusk tomorrow even if we left right now.”

“Think she was lying about the reception we should expect?”

Yang considered it, then shook her head. “No,” she said finally. “It matches up with how Blink said they were acting.” She blew out a frustrated sigh and stuffed the map away. “I don’t know that we have much of a choice. We lost a day, but rushing could make things worse.”

Weiss nodded. “We may as well rest here and set out first thing tomorrow.”

“You’re just saying that because you want to take a hot shower,” Yang teased.

“I’m not sure they have hot water here…”

“Don’t be a brat,” Yang laughed. “Let’s go tell the sheriff we’re staying and get situated. Hopefully, their accommodations are up to your standards.”

Weiss tried to muster righteous indignation but couldn’t keep a straight face and joined in her friend’s laughter, growing serious after a moment. “You were scary as hell back there, by the way,” she said, tilting her head back toward the road into town.

Yang smiled ruefully. “Sorry if I lost it a bit, I guess I was a little on edge.”

“No need to apologize, you stopped before anyone got hurt.” Weiss looked back down the road. “I guess you weren’t kidding when you said you knew how to fight.”

Yang rolled her eyes. “Those poor kids probably haven’t been in anything more than a friendly scrap in their entire lives. Seems you held your own just fine without me though.”

Weiss frowned. “If any of my instructors saw me they would have been very disappointed at my sloppy performance.”

“Good thing they didn’t then,” Yang said with a wink. “Come on, let’s go.”

After they told Sheriff Yew that they would be staying the spry woman hopped up to show them around. She brought them to the general store, pointing out its fuel pumps out front and introducing them to the old man behind the counter. He greeted them kindly enough but watched them closely until they sauntered out. Next, the sheriff led them down the small street to the town’s only inn. Inn seemed an overly generous term upon further inspection, it was more like the only house in town with a guest room. Then again, even Weiss wasn’t in the mood to be choosy after the morning they’d had, and she accepted the room they were offered without complaint, eying the two small beds with something akin to hunger.

The owner was an ancient woman who moved slowly in her traditional dress with its hanging sleeves, and she toured them around the small building while the sheriff recounted the story of their less than cordial welcome to the town. She shook her head sadly while she listened, apologizing to the women for their trouble and agreeing immediately to let them stay free of charge. When Yang tried to insist that they should pay she silenced her with a single, heavily creased hand “Many have forgotten the old ways, but not all,” she said, her voice raspy but strong. “Guests are to be honored and protected, and this is the least I can do to atone for was done to you. Please allow me to do it.”

Bereft of any argument they nodded their thanks and allowed themselves to be led back to the main room, where the proprietor handed them a key and welcomed them to her humble establishment with a slight bow of her head. The sheriff thanked the old woman and led Weiss and Yang back outside, all three squinting as they stepped from the dim interior into the blazing noontime sun. “There’s the saloon, where you can get what passes for food and drink around here, and that’s about it unless you’re looking to buy seed or feed, which I expect you’re not, but you can do that down there,” she said pointing at each building in turn. “There’s only two ways out of town, the way you came and the way you’re going, so you won’t get lost. I imagine you’ll be headed out at first light?” she asked.

“That’s the plan,” Yang replied.

“Fair enough. Well, good luck on your journey ladies,” she said, extending her hand to each in turn, both taking it gladly. “I hope you find the rest of your stay here in Odamaki more peaceful than it started. If you need anything, you know where to find me.”

“Thank you, sheriff,” they chorused, then she tipped her hat and sauntered off down the street back toward her little office.

“What do you want to do now?” Weiss asked as they watched her go.

Yang shrugged. “Not much to do, just kill time and go to bed early,” she said.

They began by wandering the length of the only street, looking at the sad little buildings and imagining how it all must have been ten or twenty years ago. Then they sat down for a leisurely lunch at the saloon, where the owner, a tiny man with a long, dark beard and shining, blue eyes, welcomed them as graciously as the innkeeper but took their money willingly enough. The food he brought was all composed of local-grown fare but cooked in the experimental fashion of a food lover with too much time on his hands, and the travelers found themselves surprised and delighted with the myriad of eclectic dishes he delivered. His creativity apparently also extended to the alcohol he served, though with far less palatable results. After one sip of his latest experiment that could kindly be described as ‘moonshine but less refined,' they insisted they needed to keep a clear head for their travels and begged off of any more. Still, it proved entertaining as the man regaled them with tales of various culinary experiments, thrilled to finally have an audience that hadn’t heard all of his stories multiple times over.

Weiss and Yang walked out the door full of food and laughter, stumbling slightly under the weight of both and waving back fondly at the grinning saloon owner as they did. They made their way slowly back to where they had left the bike, then pushed it across the street to the general store. When they walked inside the store owner greeted them with a friendly smile neatly arranged under narrowed eyes, obviously not ready to trust the strange outsiders. His misgivings didn’t extend to their Lien, however, and he gladly accepted it as they picked out food for the road, and again when Yang said she needed to fill up her tank.

They completed their errands and turned back toward the inn, Yang opting to push her bike the short distance rather than disturb the peaceful afternoon. The mesmeric hum of cicadas accompanied them as they ambled along, both lost in thought as the overlapping buzz of the creatures filled their ears and sent their minds back to summers long past.

Yang knew she should feel more urgency to move on, but something about the heat and the relative silence of the sleepy town paired with her overfull belly left her feeling subdued, and a glance at the distant, dreamlike look on Weiss’s face confirmed she wasn’t the only one. They left her bike at the inn and, with nowhere else to be and nothing else to do, they wandered on. Past the edge of town the road was lined again with trees, and after several minutes of aimless walking Weiss reached out and lightly grasped Yang’s arm, pointing wordlessly toward a small pond off the side of the road. They traversed the narrow path through the brush that led to the small pool of water where Weiss settled on a weather-worn stump while Yang perched on a large rock, reaching out and plucking a nearby reed to worry with her hands.

For a long time, they remained in their companionable silence, Weiss simply sitting and watching the frogs and minnows cavorting in the water while Yang tried to make an instrument of the reed, holding it taught between her hands and blowing until she managed to get it to vibrate and create an off-key hum. Weiss rolled her eyes at Yang’s overly proud smile when she accomplished her goal, and favored her with a mocking round of applause.

“Beautiful, you are a true virtuoso,” she said, her words finally bursting their quiet bubble.

“You’re just jealous.”

“Mmhmm,” Weiss intoned, shaking her head. “Hey,” she said, still looking at the water. “Are you ok?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Yang said, cocking her head uncertainly. “Why?”

“It’s just that earlier-“

“I told you, I lost my temper a bit, but-“

“No, it’s not that,” Weiss said, her eyes losing their focus as she remembered. “Right after you dropped that boy, your hand…” she said, hesitating and looking off into the trees. “Your left hand. It was shaking.”

Yang went back to fussing with her reed, suddenly very intent on it. “It was just adrenaline, it happens.”

“It’s just that sometimes when you wake up from your dreams your hand shakes like that-“

“I said I’m fine,” Yang snapped, trying to cover her tone with an easy smile, too late by far. “Look, yeah, I was a little riled up, but honestly,” she said tossing the stalk in the water and casting about for another diversion. “I haven’t felt this good in a while. If anything, a little dust-up was just what I needed,” she said, her smile slightly more convincing as she looked up at her doubtful friend.

“Oh,” Weiss replied, forcing a smile of her own. “Ok. Sorry to keep bugging you about this.”

“No, it’s fine,” Yang said quickly. She snatched up a small, flat stone and tested its weight experimentally. “But I’m ok, really. You don’t have to worry about me.” With that she pulled back her arm and flicked her mechanical wrist, sending the stone skipping rapidly across the small pond. After ten or so ricochets it flew clear of the water, embedding itself in a tree on the far side with a solid thunk, making both of them cringe. “Maybe I still need to work on getting a sense of this thing’s strength,” she said, a chagrined smile on her face.

“You think?” Weiss said. “It’s a good thing you held back with those poor kids.”

“Yeah,” Yang agreed. “Guess I’ll have to make sure not to go full out unless there’s no other choice.”

“Let’s hope we never get in a situation that would call for it.”

“Yeah.”

Weiss, thankfully, let it drop, and they talked about nothing for a time as they dallied by the pond. In time, the shadows around them grew long and they got up to pick their way back to the road and return to town. A few more people were out in the streets than earlier, farmers in from the field by the look of it. Though no one spoke to them, they were far from ignored, drawing long looks from all who passed. Rather than cause a stir, they retreated to the inn and found it mercifully empty save for the kindly old woman. They stopped to exchange pleasantries with her, then retired to their room.

After a lively debate over who could go first, they took turns using up every ounce of hot water in the old shower, then laid around and waited for exhaustion to kick in so they could go to bed. More than once Yang caught Weiss watching her, observing, but she tried to ignore it. She knew her friend was worried, but she had no interest in having that discussion and searched for an excuse not to. Her eyes landed on her arm, and she pulled out her scroll and hooked it up for a diagnostic check. Just like her, it was fine, and she felt herself glowing with more than a bit of pride as she examined the readout coming from her creation. She looked up once it was done to find Weiss openly staring at her.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Weiss said, finishing the half-smile on her face. “I just haven’t heard you hum in a while.”

Yang rolled her eyes as she tucked her scroll away. Maybe she hummed when she worked, so what? “Weiss, I’m fine.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Uh-huh. I’m going to bed.”

“Me too, I’ll get the lights.”

*** * * * ***

“Why the disguise?” Sun asked as Blake joined him on the ground level, clad in her hated wig and contacts.

For the first time, it occurred to Blake that not everyone knew about her past, and she preferred to keep it that way. “I’ve had run-ins with the White Fang before,” she said, letting him assume all of those run-ins had been adversarial. “I figure better safe than sorry.”

“Fair enough, I wouldn’t want to be recognized by them either,” he said. “Bunch of psychos, if you ask me.” He seemingly didn’t notice her flinch as he made his proclamation, and Blake wasn’t about to correct him.

The White Fang meeting was far enough down in the depths of the city that it would have been a very long walk. Instead, they took the central lift down just past the midway point, hopped off in the early evening foot traffic, and then used the stairs to go the rest of the way. Other than Blake donning her Fiona look, they had opted for relatively nondescript clothes over true disguise, and when they found themselves surrounded by throngs of other faunus heading in the same direction they agreed with Hark’s assessment that disguises were unnecessary.

As the crowd flowed down to a shadowy old warehouse near the base of the mountain it swelled until it resembled a parade more than a gathering of dissidents. The atmosphere was festive and lively, but instead of happy onlookers, their passage was noted by humans closing their shutters or clutching their purses as the mass of bodies swarmed passed. For a moment Blake was worried that the energy of the mob might surge and take aim at the bystanders, but as far as she could tell they were largely ignored.

Faunus dressed openly in White Fang uniforms stood at the wide entrances handing out masks meant to cover the top half of the wearer’s face. Blake immediately recognized them as simplified tributes to Adam’s mask. Her heart sank as she and Sun followed the example of the people around them proudly putting theirs on; many no doubt aspiring to be like the hateful man whose iconic look they were emulating.

The crowd packed into the large space, filling it to the point where everyone had to get very cozy with their neighbors as they waited for someone to step onto the raised platform at the far end and address them. Blake bristled when Sun put his arm around her, but she relaxed when she realized it was more to create a barrier between her and the shoulders of the tall man next to her than to draw her in. It helped that Sun wasn’t exactly unpleasant to lean against. Blake wasn’t sure if it was because of his lean, athletic frame or just that Coco was right and she needed to get laid, possibly some combination of both, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to pull away.

Her attention was dragged from his washboard abs to the stage when a member of the White Fang appeared and spoke to the crowd. “Brothers and Sisters,” she began, her amplified voice booming out over their heads. “Welcome…to the revolution!”

The rhetoric that followed was all familiar to Blake, with a bit more fire and noticeably more concrete speculation on the future uprising, but not so different from the words she’d heard many times before. Since they were recording the speech for Harkin to review, she allowed her attention to drift.

Her thoughts wandered, first, back to the beginning. In truth, the early rallies she had attended with her parents had been nothing like the one in which she currently found herself, and the disparities along with the pain of what she’d left behind spurred her thoughts ahead. Her time under Sienna had involved far more declarations of the coming revolution, of the injustice of human rule, of sacrifice, and doing what was necessary. Still, it was uncommon to wear masks then, and violence wasn’t glorified so much as accepted as a necessary tool in the fight for equality.

Her memories continued their dauntless forward trek, carrying her to Vale and her first attempt to infiltrate the organization in which she had once been so deeply involved. As the calls for taking up arms and destroying the oppressors filled her ears in the present it dragged her mind to the place she so wanted to avoid; the place where the flames of revolution had indeed been lit. The place where the life she had tried to build despite knowing she had no right to it had been torn apart. Where the love of her life had very nearly been struck down in the name of so-called justice.

Blake was glad a mask was covering her eyes, but she didn’t think about the fact that it wasn’t sealed to her face. It wasn’t until Sun nudged her and wordlessly handed her a handkerchief that she realized tears were flowing freely down her cheeks. She gratefully wiped her face clean and held it uncertainly back out toward him, but he waved her off with a lopsided grin. Looking at the wet mass made it clear to Blake why, so she wadded it up and shoved it in her pocket, quietly thanking him as she did.

The speeches concluded and the crowd was split into several groups. Through each stalked White Fang members with clipboards, recording names and instructing the recruits on where to report for initiation. Blake and Sun gave fake names, received real orders, and filed out with the rest. There was still a current of excited energy passing through the crowd, but lacking a unified destination it quickly dissipated as the faunus broke off, removed their masks, and faded back into the city.

Once they were several tiers away Sun finally spoke up. “So…pretty moved by that speech, huh?”

“No,” Blake said. “Not exactly.”

“Yeah, I didn’t think so,” he remarked. “Want to talk about it?”

“No.”

“Cool, cool. I totally get that,” Sun said, looking around at the people walking with and against them, heading home or out to dinner or any number of mundane errands as they went about their lives. “So, let’s talk about it, though.”

“Sun-“

“Hey, come on, we’re partners.”

“We are not partners,” Blake insisted.

“Ok, partner, whatever you say,” Sun said, grinning at her scowl. “Look, whether you like it or not we’re working together, and I know you have a thing against the White Fang, so spill it.”

“Are you going to give me a lecture about ignoring the past and not letting it get personal, too?” Blake asked.

“No,” Sun replied. “Let me guess? Coco?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Didn’t have to,” he said, nodding his understanding. “She’s given it to everyone in one form or another. She’s real big on not letting things get personal.”

“You saying she’s wrong?”

“Look, all I’m saying is that when someone tries to shoot me, it feels pretty fucking personal.” Blake surprised herself by laughing, and Sun looked quite proud of himself. “Gotcha.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Blake said, still smiling to herself as they walked along. “You get shot at a lot?” she asked.

“More often than I’d like, but probably not as often as I deserve,” he quipped. “But don’t change the subject. Talk to me.”

“There’s not much to say,” Blake said, looking around out of habit to ensure no one in their vicinity seemed overly interested in their conversation. “I had a partner, the last time I was trying to stop the White Fang. She…got hurt. Bad. Real bad.” They walked in silence for a moment until a final sentence pushed its way through her lips. “She was trying to protect me at the time.”

Sun took this in, chewing it over while they waded through the busy street. “Where is she now?” he asked as they reached the next staircase.

“It doesn’t matter,” Blake said, staring at each step in turn rather than meeting his searching eyes. “Not here. I had to leave her behind to protect her.”

“How did she take that?”

Blake finally met his gaze. “I don’t know,” she said, tears blurring her vision as they unsettled her accursed contacts. “I haven’t spoken to her since.”

Sun’s eyes went wide. “You didn’t even tell her you were leaving.”

“No,” Blake said, shaking her head. “I didn’t, even if I had been given the opportunity, I couldn’t... It’s better this way, I couldn’t have her following me. I can’t risk her getting hurt again.”

“I didn’t peg you for the selfish type.”

“Selfish?!” Blake cried, turning on Sun and backing him up into the railing behind him. “Selfish?” she went on more quietly. “I gave up everything, Sun, everything. How is that selfish?”

“You never even gave her a choice.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about. You weren’t there!” Blake spat.

“You’re right,” Sun said, indicating that they should stop blocking the stairs and continuing to head up. Eventually, Blake joined him. “I wasn’t, I’m sorry for presuming.”

“Can we drop this?” Blake pleaded.

Sun watched her for a moment, his eyes so sad it nearly made Blake scream. But he nodded, and the two made their way back to the house.


	16. Not-So-Ancient History

Sleep had taken Yang quickly and immediately, and if she called out in the night either Weiss didn’t hear or simply didn’t say. Regardless, they both rose before dawn to ready themselves in the thin shafts of morning light that snuck their way through ancient blinds. Downstairs they were surprised to find their hostess exactly where they had last seen her the night before, smiling kindly from her sturdy wooden rocking chair. Yang offered again to pay and again was turned down. There was nothing to do but thank her profusely, so they did, then strode out into the street, quiet and empty save for the birds and the distant sounds of people working their fields and tending their animals.

Yang fired up Bumblebee and they hopped on so she could guide it slowly out of town, grimacing at how obscene the engine sounded in the otherwise serene morning. Once they entered the forest she gradually leaned into the throttle, picking up their pace and leaving the somber little town behind.

Their ride that day was largely unremarkable. The land was flat and dotted with forests and wetlands that eventually all blended together as they roared down the path that cut through it all. They stopped for lunch near midday but didn’t tarry, the insects from the swamp beyond the road mounting a solid case for them moving along. By dinner, the tires were crunching their way across firm land again. When the time came to stop for the night, they chose a hill with a rocky outcropping on one side that provided them a modest sense of security. In short order they had a cheery fire to keep them company while they sat and ate an uninspiring dinner, reminiscing as they did about the delightful meal of the afternoon before.

Though there had been no sign of anyone moving about in the surrounding area they still opted to sleep in shifts, Yang taking the first and Weiss not arguing. Midway through the night, they switched, and when the morning arrived they rose, groggy but safe, and threw dirt on the remains of their fire before returning to the road.

The sheriff’s prediction proved right, and they rolled into Shion just before midday. Yang pulled the bike off to one side of the path and parked it in the outskirts, hoping to avoid startling the jumpy villagers. They walked the rest of the way into the neatly arranged little town, taking in its well-tended cobblestone road and beautiful rows of grapevines in the fields beyond. The first building they passed was made of stone and possessed a lone tower with a beautiful circle of stained glass depicting the Brothers up near the peak.

“Huh, a church,” Yang remarked, looking up at the ornate building as they passed. “I haven’t seen one in…well I’m not sure I have seen one outside of history books.”

Weiss nodded. “That’s because you’re from Vale. Not a lot of religion there, or in Vacuo for that matter, but Mistral still has pockets of it.”

“And Atlas?”

Weiss breathed out sharply. “The only things worshiped there are money and power,” she said, looking beyond the edges of the church to the grassy field it fronted. “Look.”

Yang followed her gaze. “A graveyard?” she asked, not understanding the urgency.

“Actually look.”

So she did, and then she saw it. “A lot of those graves look…fresh,” she said, keeping her voice down as she noticed they weren’t alone.

The streets were far from teaming, but also far from empty. The oddest thing, however, was the pace of the people scurrying about. There was no one loitering or strolling, and no one stopped to greet their neighbors or chat. People hardly acknowledged one another at all. Instead, they walked silently and purposefully toward their destination, heads down, until they stepped behind the door they sought and all but slammed it shut.

“Blink wasn’t kidding, everyone does seem freaked out here,” Yang said, watching a woman reach back frantically to scoop up her straggling child before disappearing inside the nearest house.

“Yeah,” Weiss agreed, noting multiple hostile looks tossed their way. “And they don’t seem overly thrilled with our arrival.”

“No, they don’t.”

“We should find the inn so we can get a room and try to figure out what to do next.”

Yang a nodded and they walked further into the heart of Shion, which seemed massive after the tiny scrap of a town they’d just left. Several wide streets branched off the one on which they were walking, mostly lined by large family homes fronted by well-tended gardens. As they approached what appeared to be the main square the buildings changed slightly. They were still mostly white, but they were larger and their front walls were given over to display windows and signs. Several were boarded-up, however, and a large portion of the people in the square seemed not to be shoppers but workers repairing the damage that could be seen on some of the stores.

Upon closer inspection, it was clear that even the pristine-looking buildings bore signs of recent repair. “Most of these buildings have been repainted very recently,” Weiss said, leaning in and squinting at the wall nearest her.

“How can you tell?”

“The white is brighter on some buildings, it hasn’t had time to yellow with dirt or sun.”

Yang looked around, straining to see what her friend was talking about before giving up. “I don’t see it, but you have a better eye than I do for that kind of thing,” she said. “What do you think it all means?”

“Repaired buildings, full graveyard, I think it’s pretty obvious.”

Yang nodded. “So Blink was right: they’ve been attacked.”

“Looks that way. The only question is: was the attack before or after the volunteers were kidnapped?”

“No way to know for sure, but I’m going to go ahead and guess it was before.”

“Agreed.”

They almost walked right past the large inn. It bore no sign on its facade and the boarded up windows held no hints as to what lay beyond. The only reason they noticed it at all was a small flyer posted on the barred entrance that caught Yang’s eye.

“Our deepest apologies, but we’ve been closed by order of the mayor,” Yang read aloud.

The pair leaned back and looked up at what they imagined must have been a lovely building at one point, but the scarring that so many other buildings had patched over had been left like a warning on the face of the inn.

Before they could puzzle over the meaning behind the mayor’s order a shout from the scaffolding hanging off the next building drew their attention. “Help!” a lone worker called, dangling from the fifth story platform.

While Weiss looked helplessly around the crowd, frozen now mid-dash from one place to the next and looking uncomfortable in their stillness, Yang sprinted for the ladder. In a manner of moments, she was more than halfway up, slowing a bit so as not to rock the platform as she approached the man. She crested the level of the fourth story just as the man’s grip gave out, but his resulting scream was cut off almost immediately.

He wasn’t the only one whose breath caught. Through her strained grimace, Yang felt a collective inhale from the people below. They were likely as surprised as the dangling worker was when he opened his eyes and found a black and yellow fist clutching tight to the front of his overalls, completely ignoring the hand that was somehow supporting both of their weight with a white-knuckle grip on the rung above.

Yang glanced down at the man. “Are you ok?”

He nodded nervously, staring at the hand grasping his clothes with growing concern. “What…let go of me!” he shouted, beginning to struggle.

“Hey, stop that!” Yang shouted through gritted teeth, her straining shoulders threatening to dislocate with the added force. Hastily, she heaved him up on the nearest platform, where he quickly scurried backward as far as he could get from her.

“S-stay away from me!” he shouted, never taking his eyes off the arm that had saved his life.

“Fine, but if you fall again someone else will have to save your sorry ass,” she huffed as she started the descent back to street level where a wide-eyed crowd was silently gathering.

Yang reached the ground to find a large, soft-looking man striding through the crowd to reach her. His eyes bulged out from beneath a hairline that had long since receded behind his ears, his jowls followed the rest of his head’s movement a moment too late as he cast his accusing glare about. Like most in the town he wore a simple robe, but an ornate sash proclaimed him to be of some importance, and the deference the crowd gave him confirmed it.

“What is going on here?” he demanded, staring bug-eyed at the outsiders.

“Just saving a dude’s life,” Yang said, inspecting the fingernails she no longer had. “No big deal.”

“It seems to me that you’re causing a disturbance. State your business at once and then be on your way.”

“We’re truly sorry for any trouble we caused,” Weiss said, cutting off the snide remark Yang had been winding up to deliver. “We were just passing through and hoped we could ask someone a few questions, Mr…?”

“ _Mayor_ Kasu,” he responded stiffly.

“Mayor Kasu,” Weiss repeated with a slight curtsy. “It’s an honor, we were just wondering-“

“I don’t care what you were wondering, girl,” he retorted. “Assuming it is true that you saved that man’s life, which remains to be seen, I still owe you nothing. Because I am kind I will allow you to purchase provisions before leaving, but I expect you out of my town before dark. Am I clear?”

“But-”

“And if you go around disturbing the peace I will have you thrown out of town immediately. Now begone from my sight,” he said, declaring their business concluded as he spun to face the crowd. “That’s enough standing around and gawking,” he said, raising his voice to be heard by all. “Move along, nothing to see here.” He shooed people on their way, and most jumped to comply. “Remember ladies, do not tarry here,” he muttered darkly over his shoulder before departing and leaving the pair alone.

“Well, that’s great,” Yang said, watching as everyone went back to ignoring them. “What do we do now?”

“I mean I guess we resupply and move on…” Weiss said hesitantly.

“No.”

“…no?”

“No,” Yang repeated. “There must be something here we can learn.”

“Something that Blink, a professional…whatever he is, missed?”

Yang set her jaw. “I have to try.”

“Why do I have the feeling that this ends with us getting run out of town?” Weiss asked, looking back at the shuttered inn wistfully.

“Because it probably will,” Yang admitted. “Come on, let’s refuel the bike and buy some food, then stash it on the far side.”

“That way when we get tossed out we’ll be ready?”

“ _If_ we get tossed out…but yes,” she said, smiling broadly at her long-suffering companion.

It took them a few hours to run their errands, especially since Weiss insisted they push the bike, fearing that the engine would simply draw more attention to them and speed their unwilling departure. When it was finally tucked away under a tree and ready to go, they stopped and looked back at the seemingly peaceful town.

“Ok, so now what?” Weiss asked.

“Now, we knock on doors.”

“Sounds like a great way to be told to leave.”

Yang gave her an odd look, somewhere between revelation and guilt. “Not if we knock on the right doors.”

“And how, exactly, are we going to figure out which ones are the right ones?”

She looked up at the spire of the church rising on the far side of town, squinting in the midday sun. “First we go pay our respects to the recently departed.”

*** * * * ***

Blake was waiting, again. Her initiation into the White Fang ( _third time’s a charm_ , she thought) was a few days off, and Coco had made it painfully clear that she wasn’t interested in Blake’s help with spying on Beringer. After making the rounds and being told politely but definitively by Hark, Ivy, and Yatsu that her assistance was unnecessary, she retreated to the quiet library in the attic. The air was stale and stuffy when she entered, so she grabbed one of the wooden chairs nearby to open the skylights on the slanting roof, allowing a fresh breeze to flow in along with the afternoon sunlight.

Picking a shelf at random she began scanning the worn spines of the books that filled the room. As with any private collection there seemed to be some method to the way things were ordered, but she quickly gave up trying to puzzle it out. With no urgency to her search, there was no need to decipher the system anyway, so she simply wandered back and forth, reading the titles that jumped out at her.

There were several she’d read, many more she’d heard of, and plenty that were completely new. One, in particular, called out to her, a massive tome with a binding that looked like it was just about ready to give up its foolhardy attempts at containing the fat stack of pages. On the cover, in embossed lettering that had long since faded to the color of natural leather, the title read: _The Complete History of Remnant_.

Blake wasn’t usually interested in stale retellings of historical events, especially since they tended to be written by humans who saw the oppression of faunus as the natural order of things, but something about the dusty old book intrigued her. With dexterous fingers she prized it from the shelf, staggering a bit under its weight as she hauled over to the big reading table in the center of the room. She thumped the mighty book down and gingerly opened it against the crackling protests of its ancient leather, settling on the first page, yellowed and brittle but filled with text.

The introduction was as dry as the page on which it sat, and Blake was reminded why she normally avoided books of its ilk. Something about the physical presence of it compelled her, however, and she began flipping through the pages, allowing the dry rustling to carry her across Remnant and through the decades. The longest chapter in the book by a significant margin was about the Great War, the massive conflict that had drawn in every kingdom nearly a hundred years before. Even in the desiccated tones of the author, the battles were gut-wrenching in their descriptions, the numbers of dead and wounded implying rivers of blood that couldn’t be entirely dried up and swept away in their retelling.

Frustration curled Blake’s fingers at the utter lack of any concrete explanations for what had started it all. The usual culprits were there: Atlas’s attack on individual expression as a source of division, Mistral’s desire to plunder the once resource-laden lands of Vacuo, Vale’s refusal to stand aside and let either happen. In school, she had learned of those causes and the many others attributed to the war several times, but now that she was staring down the very real possibility of another one she found them to be unsatisfying. Who was the person that pushed for war first? Not the politician or general who signed the declaration of war, that was well documented, but rather the person who was behind the scenes pulling the strings. What did they get out of all of it? Did they know what they were unleashing on the world? Were there people opposing them?

Given the scale of the conflict, it made sense to Blake why the focus would be on the kingdoms as a whole, on the big picture. But now she saw that glossing over the individual dramas behind it all was terribly negligent. No one can persuade a kingdom to go to war; a kingdom lacks wants and needs and motivations. People were another matter. Individuals can be swayed and convinced and bribed and blackmailed. They, in turn, can steer and cajole the masses that make up a kingdom. It seemed a crime that a supposedly comprehensive history of such an important event left out the ones who set it all into motion; who tipped the delicate balance just enough to tumble the world into chaos. Without those lessons, how was Blake, or anyone for that matter, supposed to avoid reaching the same awful conclusion?

“Have you been up here all day?” Sun asked from the doorway, barging into the midst of Blake’s dark thoughts.

“Oh, uh,” she said, blinking her tired eyes and looking up at the fading light. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“Must be some book,” he said.

“It’s a history book, pretty dull actually, but it caught my eye,” she said, easing the heavy book closed.

“If you want to take a break, I was thinking of going out and grabbing some dinner. Interested?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Blake said, searching for an excuse.

“Come on, you should stretch your legs a bit after being cooped up all day. My treat!”

“Sure,” Blake said, mostly just glad that someone wanted her around. “Why not?”

\--

“I’m sorry again, about before,” Sun said as they waited for their dinner. He had brought her to a favorite hole in the wall of his just below the middle tier, and they sat at the counter as people walked by on the street behind them, many in search of food themselves.

“It’s ok,” Blake said, waving him off. “It’s just a sensitive subject for me. Maybe Coco’s right.”

“About what?”

Not interested in mentioning her advice about getting laid, she opted for the more neutral portion. “That I need to leave the past in the past.”

Sun watched her head droop. “It doesn’t really seem like that’s what you want.”

“Yeah well, when has the world ever asked me what I wanted?”

“I-“ Sun began, cutting off as the cook dropped two large bowls in front of them.

They thanked the man and he disappeared back into the small kitchen. Sun tried picking up where they’d left off, but after a few failed attempts he caught the hint and let the conversation wander naturally over lighter topics.

The shadows of her memories haunted the fringes of Blake’s mind all night, but she tried to stay focused on Sun’s quick smile and easy banter. At the climax of one of his many stories, she laughed so hard she forgot for a moment that she wasn’t just a girl out on a date with a boy. She almost felt normal. Then her laughter faded and the shadows returned, and Sun’s smile faltered just a bit as he watched it happen, helpless to stop it. He didn’t pry, though, and for that Blake was immensely grateful.

The walk back through the warm night was pleasant, the dim street lights and bright stars above lending it a dreamlike quality. Blake couldn’t help but notice Sun’s casual closeness, or the way that his hand would settle lightly on her back or shoulder, just for a moment, as they rounded corners or squeezed through clusters of people. At first, she thought it was intentional, but the first time his fingers brushed against hers he jerked away nervously, and she realized he might not even be aware he was doing it.

Blake pulled away an extra step, guilt stirring in her stomach as she saw him note her added distance. She wasn’t surprised that Sun was one to wear his heart on his sleeve, but she wasn’t prepared to deal with it. If she simply didn’t like him the answer would be obvious, and she would easily nip his little crush in the bud. Unfortunately, it wasn’t so cut and dry.

Sun was light and fun and attentive and so…earnest. She couldn’t deny that being around him seemed to make her feel better, as though there was finally someone in Mistral who actually cared about her rather than what she could provide. It didn’t hurt that he was easy on the eyes…

But how could she? How could she allow herself to get close to someone when she was still so deeply in love with the woman she had abandoned? Abandoned out of necessity, it was true, but abandoned nonetheless. How many different ways could she violate that love and still call it by that name? Was it right to enjoy herself? Was she allowed?

All of these questions and more raced through Blake’s head as they wandered back to their posh neighborhood. A few blocks from their house she veered half a step closer. Sun held steady, neither moving in nor pulling away. Their fingers brushed once, twice, then tangled for a moment. As they did Blake had a sudden memory of a perfect fall afternoon an ocean away, of a heavy jacket wrapped lovingly around her shoulders and a ringing laugh in her ears, of lilac eyes.

She knew those eyes had been soft that day, but in her mind they turned on her, sharp and accusing. A blast of cold air swept over her, as though the burning eyes had made real the remembered wind. She snatched her hand back, wrapping her arms around herself as goosebumps raced across her skin. Sun looked on the verge of saying something, but they’d already arrived at their front door.

“Thanks for dinner,” Blake said, quickly standing up on tiptoes and kissing him chastely on the cheek. Without another word she opened the big door and disappeared up the stairs to her room.

“Sure,” Sun said, rubbing the lingering warmth on his face as he watched the mysterious woman vanish. “Any time.”


	17. Justifying the Means

Weiss and Yang passed back through Shion as inconspicuously as possible, which is to say, not very. Everyone they encountered seemed struck by a sudden urge to be somewhere else but not before casting an unwelcoming glare their way. Fortunately, those they sought couldn't exactly make a speedy getaway. After glancing about the empty street they opened the gate of the graveyard's low, wrought-iron fence and stepped onto the path leading through the center. They did their best to be respectful as they scanned the names on the stones standing above freshly turned dirt.

Yang recorded each one as they went, while Weiss looked around at the hallowed ground on which they were intruding. “This…seems wrong,” she said quietly.

Yang paused for a moment, then continued typing on her scroll. “I know,” she said, not looking up.

“Then why-“

“Because,” she said, her voice hardening. “I will do anything to get Ruby back.” Finishing her list she folded her scroll and slid it into her pocket, looking up with unwavering determination in her eyes. “Anything.” With that, she strode out of the graveyard, Weiss following slowly behind and looking apologetically at the graves of those whose families they were about to haunt.

\--

“I want you off my doorstep, immediately!”

“Please, if you could just tell us-“

“I told you already, I have nothing to say to a couple of outsiders. Now go!”

“But-“

“Go!” the woman said, tears streaking her face and ruining her otherwise impeccable makeup as she slammed the large door in their faces.

Yang and Weiss had wandered neighborhoods for nearly an hour before they found a matching name, and it had taken less than a minute for the owner of the large house they’d approached to kick them out. Swallowing the arguments that had been so effectively shut down, Yang stomped back out to the street, scanning her list as she read the names on the mailboxes lining the prim lane. Weiss trailed behind, periodically giving voice to her misgivings at what they were doing, but Yang was decided. She would do anything to get to Ruby, even something as ghoulish as this if that’s what it took. Still, she couldn’t totally deny the niggling worry about where the path they were currently on might lead, even if she wouldn’t confess it out loud.

In the short term, it led to many angry strangers and slammed doors. Neither stymied her determination. Even as clouds rolled in and brought a premature dusk she refused to give up, working her way through town and stopping at every home with a familiar name. She never mentioned the dead directly, but as soon as she brought up the attack her meaning was clear, and it was not well received.

Nearing the end of their list, the weary pair found themselves close to the outskirts of town. The houses weren’t as big or fancy as those further in, but they were still neat and well kept. The gardens were humble but obviously tended with care, containing fewer flowers and more fruits vegetables. In a few front yards children ran and played with each other, but as the travelers passed their parents would suddenly remember some chore they needed to be doing and call them into the house. At the end of the increasingly quiet lane, a name stopped Yang in her tracks.

“Shields…” she murmured to herself as she consulted her dwindling list, nodding when she found it.

The house was dark and still, but she approached anyway, trying to forget the tears and justified outrage she had inspired all day as she so cruelly reopened fresh wounds in the bereaved. It wasn’t a day she would look back on with pride, but if it meant saving her sister she would do it all again, without hesitation. She just had to hope that she could make amends somehow. With a deep breath and a preemptively sinking heart, she raised her hand and knocked, standing back and waiting as she heard shuffling footsteps approaching from within.

A man opened the door, not quite young but not yet middle-aged, handsome in a tired, understated sort of way. His clothes were vaguely disheveled, not as though he'd just laughingly disentangled himself from the whirlwind embrace of a lover, but in a slower, deeper manner indicative of long term neglect. By all accounts, it was the appearance of a man only just holding on.

“Can I help you?” he asked, his voice raspy and slow as his eyes slid from Yang up and over her shoulder, landing on Weiss as she fretted silently before sagging back to the woman in front of him.

“I hope so,” Yang replied softly, finding it impossible to question the shell of a man with any sort of force. “I need to know what happened here when the doctors from Vale were taken.”

“I…I don’t know anything about that,” he said, his eyes opening wider as he took a half-step back into his dimly lit home. “I’m sorry, whoever you are, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

As he started to close the door Yang’s arm shot out, pinning it open. “Please,” she whispered, reaching into her pocket and pulling out Ruby’s ID. “I need to find my sister,” she said, holding up the little square of plastic with Ruby’s smiling face for him to see.

After a pained moment, he looked away and shook his head. “I can’t help you, I’m sorry-“

“My sister is out there, somewhere. Please,” Yang begged, her voice shaking as she brandished the photo. “If Heather were still alive wouldn’t you do everything you could to protect her?”

The man’s fatigue was swept away as a storm of emotion rolled over him. Like a man possessed he stepped forward until his face was inches from Yang’s. “Don’t you ever say my wife’s name again. Ever,” he growled, his skin reddening in patches as his eyes swam with rage and grief.

He looked prepared to unleash his barely contained emotion, but a light tugging on his sleeve brought his attention down to a wide-eyed little girl looking up from beside his knees. Though her clothes were better kept and her hair was neatly tied back in a bow, her face bore the same exhausted look of her father. The only difference Yang could see was that her wide, blue eyes seemed haunted as much by confusion as sadness. “Does this lady know what happened to Mommy?” she asked, her voice high and innocent.

In an instant, the man’s face cleared. Though Yang could still see the shadow of his despair, she was impressed at how far he went to put on a brave face for his daughter as he knelt and hugged her. “No, sweetie. They’re just lost and thought they were at another house, but they’re leaving now. Why don’t you go play?” he suggested, patting her head lightly and directing her back into the house. Standing, he looked back at Yang, his grip on his anger lost. “Please,” he said quietly. “Just leave us alone.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Yang rasped, the weight of what she had been putting people through all day crushing her throat, making it nearly impossible to draw breath.

“I…thank you,” he said, giving her a sad half-smile as he gently closed the door.

Yang retreated down the walk to the lane, joining Weiss as it began to drizzle. For a moment the two women stood in silence, their guilt mixing with fears they were unwilling to speak aloud until it was impossible to say if their cheeks were wet from the warm rain trickling gently down on them or not. Before either could suggest that they move on, or at least seek shelter, the door that had so recently closed creaked open, and the pitter-patter of small footsteps announced the approach of Heather’s daughter.

She stopped a few paces away, suddenly shy and wary of the strange women. Seeing this, Yang knelt on the muddy street, nodding encouragingly at the little girl. “Hi,” she said, pouring every ounce of sunshine she had left into a friendly smile, the tears brimming in her eyes threatening to ruin the effect. “My name’s Yang. What’s yours?”

“Caroline,” the girl said slowly, still uncertain.

“That’s a lovely name.”

“Thanks,” she said, looking down as she spun the toe of her tiny shoe in the dirt.

“Do you have something you wanted to tell us, Caroline?” Yang said, prompting without pushing.

The girl shook her head, and instead produced a small swatch of fabric. Quick as a mouse she darted in and pressed it into Yang’s hand then, fled back to the house without a word. Yang peered down at it; it was a patch with a strange symbol on it, but not one that she’d ever seen. It looked like a strange eye of some sort, or maybe a clock, black against red and centered in a strange swoop. She looked up from the new mystery and saw the man’s tired eyes staring back from the doorway. He offered a single, tight-lipped nod and shut the door with an air of finality.

Yang stood and passed the patch to Weiss, who turned it in various ways and shook her head. “I’ve never seen it,” she said, handing it back.

Yang tucked it in her pocket. “Neither have I, but it looks like it was torn off of a jacket or something, and I’m guessing it wasn’t just a common traveler.”

“No,” Weiss agreed. “It almost looks like a military patch. Think it was from the people who took Ruby?”

“I think he thinks it was, and that’s the best we’re going to get,” Yang said, turning and striding off down the path.

“Where are we going?” Weiss asked, hurrying to catch up.

“We’re leaving.”

“In this?” she asked, wincing as the rain increased its tempo.

Yang grimaced but nodded. “It’ll be slow going, but yeah. Given how many people we upset today we’re lucky they haven’t thrown us out already. We need to get a few miles down the road before we find shelter and camp for the night.”

If Weiss was unhappy with the plan she made a show of covering it, stiffening her lip and nodding as the two trudged through the drizzling rain out to the edge of town. Yang was grateful, she didn't want to have to argue her point, to admit to herself what she was really running from. Though judging from the guilt-stricken look in Weiss's eyes, she was just as eager to flee the town they'd mercilessly prowled all day as Yang was.

*** * * * ***

  
The day finally arrived for their initiation, and Blake and Sun made their way, as instructed, to the outskirts of Mistral down in the foothills of the mountain. They had risen before the sun to make the trek down. Their meeting time was late enough that they could have slept for a few more hours, a fact that Sun had pointed out several times that morning, but Blake wanted to scout the area beforehand to know what they were walking into. The answer seemed to be nothing, so after several widening circles around their destination, they gave up their search and resigned themselves to waiting, something that Blake was finding harder to tolerate all the time.

An hour past their assigned time they were still waiting, and Sun was starting to suggest yet again that they bail when the grumble of an engine drew their attention. Behind the sound came a large truck trundling along the dirt road, and when it reached them it screeched to a halt. The long bed was covered in a canvas canopy, and as the truck stopped a woman in a mask and wearing the symbol of the White Fang leaned out of the rear flap. She read off the names they had given and waved them inside, turning her head side to side and seeing as much nothing as her latest passengers had in the surrounding fields.

Blake and Sun sat among the other recruits lining the benches on either side of the tight space, none of them speaking as they bounced and swayed their way to wherever they were going. The truck stopped to collect a few more passengers, then pulled onto a wider road, opening up the engine with a roar before settling into a higher gear as it hauled them to their destination. Blake had done her best to maintain her sense of direction, but between the lack of windows and the hypnotic hum of the motor, she was completely disoriented by the time they arrived.

The truck pulled to a stop briefly, the driver exchanging words with someone outside, then continued. The light coming in through the flap went from glaring to dim and dappled, and Blake assumed they were under tree cover of some sort. A few minutes later her suspicion was confirmed when they stopped and the White Fang woman ordered them out. They were surrounded by trees, but even in the clearings the light was tinted and speckled.

“Look,” Sun whispered, flicking his eyes upward.

She followed his glance and saw an odd green webbing strung across the break in the trees, leaves and vines wound through it as though at random.

“Camouflage,” Sun said. “This place is probably invisible from the sky.”

Under the canopy was a cluster of simple metal buildings neatly arrayed around the clearing. Trucks drove in and out of a number of them, and she saw piles of crates in what were apparently warehouses. Other buildings were lower and had plain windows spaced evenly along the sides. _Barracks_ , Blake suspected. Not all of the buildings were complete, however, some were still being hastily assembled.

They were guided toward a loosely organized crowd that was forming up nearby, all recruits like them. In front were a handful of White Fang members conferring between themselves. Their group was apparently the last to arrive, and as they approached one of the members stepped forward and addressed them all. “Welcome, brothers and sisters,” he said, his voice carrying easily and silencing the muttered conversations that had sprung up. “These are unusual times, as you are no doubt aware, and we are here to seize the opportunity they represent. To do that we will need each and every one of you. Today will be a trial of sorts; we need to see what you are capable of.” Murmurs rippled through the crowd, many concerned they would be turned away due to some perceived lack. “Fear not,” he assured them holding up his hands to silence their worries. “None who wish to join will be turned away. If your skills are not martial in nature we will find other ways for you to serve our glorious cause. All of you have a place here; all of you are family.”

This put some at ease, but a slight tension still emanated from the group as they awaited their first test. A tall woman stepped forward, her tight uniform showing off long limbs wrapped in lean muscle. “Everyone, follow me,” she barked, turning and breaking into an easy jog without further explanation.

There was a brief hesitation before the group scrambled to follow, stampeding after her in a large cluster as she sped toward the woods at the edge of the camp. The trail she entered caused something of a traffic jam, and Sun and Blake looked at the backup in frustration. Scanning the trees, Sun smiled. “I’m not really in a waiting mood, are you?”

“Not really,” Blake said. “What did you have in mind?”

“Follow me.”

They skirted around the mob still trying to work its way into the trail. Some were trying to cut through the underbrush on either side, but they were soon bogged down and left stumbling and struggling through the unruly vegetation. Sun pointed to a big tree with thick branches at the edge of the woods and walked over to set his back to it. When Blake saw him cup his hands she nodded, stepping into the platform he’d made and accepting the boost. She easily caught a branch and hauled herself up, turning to offer Sun a hand. He waved her off, however, and took two steps back from the tree. His knees flexed as he bounced on his toes a few times, then he took a few quick strides and leaped at the tree, planting his lead foot on the trunk and pushing up and off of it. His second jump got him high enough to easily snatch the branch Blake was sitting on, and she slid back toward the trunk to make room as he swung up.

She shook her head, unable to keep a smile off of her face. “Showoff.”

With a wink Sun turned and leaped again, catching another branch and swinging to the next tree over. Blake swiftly gave chase, not able to mimic his moves exactly but more than able to keep up in the dense canopy. Shouts and creaking branches told her that others had caught on, but she didn’t dare look back, instead focusing all of her attention on her precarious footing.

They swiftly drew level with the thin pack that was tailing their guide, then dropped down to the trail and fell in. Blake was panting from the exertion but did her best to cover it as she kept pace with the faunus around her. Sun’s breathing was infuriatingly relaxed, as though their mad scramble through the trees had just been a morning stroll for him.

More caught up over time. Some dropped from the trees as Sun and Blake had, while others simply closed the gap on the ground. As they did, however, a few who had happened to be at the front of the pack from the beginning started to drop off. The woman leading them was a machine, her stride never faltered as she flowed over the uneven ground. If she was exerting herself at all, the calm rise and fall of ribs on her perfectly straight back gave no indication.

After several minutes of this Blake spared a glance over her shoulder. A large chunk of the group had caught up, though they were strung out in a long line. Many toward the back seemed to be struggling mightily. Blake had always been blessed with more endurance than she thought she’d earned, but she was glad she’d been running across the rooftops of Mistral for months, otherwise, she would have been having a much harder time.

As though the tireless woman could read her thoughts she increased her pace dramatically. At first, those at the front gamely kept up, thinking it was a momentary burst of speed. As the minutes dragged on, however, it became clear that she could easily maintain her loping run, and looks of mild panic began spreading through the cluster of runners. A few started trailing behind, their breath hitching as they clutched their sides, and the line began to spread out further still.

Sun appeared to be having no trouble, and though she could feel her heart rate increasing dramatically, Blake refused to fall behind. The edges of her vision blurred as sweat dripped down her brow, and for a moment she worried that she’d dislodged a contact, but a quick swipe with her hand told her it was still there. Then she thought of little beyond the next stride; all of her attention was required to keep filling her screaming lungs and silence the loudly protesting muscles in her legs.

Her stubborn refusal to fall behind carried her along, but she knew that at some point she would hit a physical limit that she couldn’t will herself through. Luckily she never had to find out where that limit lay. The end of the trail loomed just ahead of the end of her stamina, and a few painful seconds later she was back in the clearing of the camp, clutching her knees and gasping for breath.

The woman who had led them turned around, her breath perfectly calm as she looked back toward the forest. Another White Fang member approached and waited for her report. “I may have gotten a little excited,” she said, acknowledging the man beside her. “Wait ten minutes before calling it.”

He nodded and she strode away, showing no sign of the miles of wooded trails she had just covered in her unerring gait. Blake finally pulled herself upright, her breathing still ragged but her head clearing. Looking around she noticed that Sun was nowhere to be seen, but before she could get too worried he reappeared from behind a tree, wiping his mouth and looking pale.

“You were just pretending that whole time?!” Blake accused.

Sun laughed weakly. “Yeah, that was awful, but I didn’t want you to know how badly I was struggling,” he said.

Blake rolled her eyes, but was too tired to give him a hard time. She focused instead on stretching her exhausted muscles, afraid of cramping after the unexpected exertion. Long before she felt anywhere near rested the man they’d been left with called time and instructed those who’d made it to follow him. By Blake’s reckoning, roughly half had arrived, and other White Fang members were sent into the woods to collect the stragglers. For a moment she considered intentionally failing the next trial, thinking that it might give her more time to snoop around, but her stubborn nature wouldn’t allow it.

They marched over to a roughly constructed obstacle course and Blake worried that she might fail regardless of her intent. Her legs still felt like jelly, but since everyone else’s apparently did as well she managed to struggle through and keep up. The few who didn’t finish were ushered off to join the others who had failed the first round.

Next, they were brought to a small shooting range. They were tested with a variety of weapons at various distances, Blake easily hitting every target presented with the pistol they provided and doing well enough with other weapons to garner impressed nods from those judging. Sun was very nearly perfect, and as he set aside the rifle he’d used to score a bullseye at a ridiculous range he tossed a wink to Blake. She told herself it was a competitive fire that lit in her stomach as a result, and if it seemed to be spreading then it was just because she really wanted to best him.

After the shooting range, they were instructed to go to the mess hall and grab lunch, with no more recruits pulled from the group in the process. Blake wasn’t sure if the cuts were done or if everyone had simply performed well enough to pass, but given how badly they likely needed fighters she assumed the former. Lunch was some sort of bland slop served from a giant pot by a large goat faunus with a distinct limp and more scars than Blake had ever seen on a single person. She and Sun accepted their gloppy meals and found a table in the large, unadorned room that made up the entirety of the square building.

It soon filled with other recruits, eager to chat about what they’d been through that morning and what they expected in the afternoon, so the two infiltrators couldn’t speak openly. Instead, they joined in the general chatter. Sun quickly worked his way into the center of the conversation, his easy charm working its magic on everyone around him while Blake mostly sat quietly and added a word or two when appropriate. Unless they were all incredible actors, it seemed everyone at their table was eager to fight, die even, so long as it meant helping the faunus. In many ways, they reminded Blake of herself a decade before. She and her friends had said much the same but tended to focus less on the potential combat they might have to see as a result. There was a certain hunger, almost a bloodthirstiness, about these new recruits. It was unsettling.

When they were collected and brought out to the training yard it was confirmed that the cuts were done; all of them would eventually be given combat roles of one sort or another, and everything from there out would be training and determining where they would be of most use. The rest of the afternoon was given over to assessing their hand-to-hand combat skills and breaking them into levels for training and sparring. Blake was years out of practice but still quite capable, and just managed to earn a spot in the highest group. Sun, meanwhile, was all but offered an instructor position. Blake couldn’t quite bring herself to be upset; it was clear that he was well-trained and hadn’t spent ten years letting his skills degrade.

By the time they were marched back to the waiting trucks, they were all sweating and exhausted. There seemed to be no system for how they were loaded up, so they simply piled into the nearest truck and waited. Once it was filled a White Fang member jumped in the back and the driver lurched them off down the bumpy road leading out of camp.

Blake tried again to get her bearings, but when they were finally dropped off at the base of Mistral she was no closer to knowing where they’d been. One by one they filed out of the truck while their White Fang babysitter told them they were to come back for training the day after next. He gave them a time and a place before jumping up in the cab and leaving them all in a cloud of dust as the big tuck ambled off.

Back in reality the spell of camaraderie from earlier was broken, and none of the recruits spoke as they broke off and went their separate ways. Blake and Sun soon found themselves alone as they sought the nearest lift to skip past the rough neighborhoods and complete their climb through more pleasant streets.

Somewhere above the middle tier, with a handful still to go, Sun suggested they stop and grab dinner. Blake almost declined, but at the mention of food, her stomach loudly protested its emptiness, so she laughingly agreed. Sun knew a place nearby and led them there. True to form it was tiny and gritty, but the food came hot and quick and likely good, not that Blake tasted much as she inhaled the steaming dish.

“So, I guess we’re in,” Sun said, digging into his own plate.

Blake swallowed her mouthful. “Seems that way.”

“What’s the plan now?”

She considered this. “Given how much of a hurry we’re in, we’re going to have to take a two-pronged approach. One: we keep impressing them and hope we get pulled in on important matters.”

“Think that will pay off soon enough?” Sun cut in.

Blake shrugged. “The camp looked pretty hastily constructed, and everything seems a little chaotic. They need people, now, so they’ll be quick to assign the capable ones to jobs that need doing. It’s risky on their part, but they’re on the clock as well.”

Sun accepted this. “Fair. What else?”

“We need to figure out how to slip away and scope out the camp. There must be more than just training going on there; I saw buildings with multiple armed guards at the entrances.”

“So we need to earn their trust while flagrantly violating it?”

“Pretty much.”

Sun smiled. “Sounds easy, I’m in.”

Blake laughed and continued eating, and soon the conversation drifted away from work. All the while, Sun flirted shamelessly. If he were anyone else it would have been incredibly off-putting, but Blake couldn’t help but flirt back in her own subdued way. They continued on their walk back, laughing their way through the front door of the hideout.

“I’m glad that infiltrating a terrorist organization was so much fun,” Coco said, the scowl on her face belying her words. “Report.”

Sun stood up a bit straighter. “No new intel, but we were taken to a base and sorted into combat and non-combat roles and put through training. We’re going back day after tomorrow for more.”

Coco nodded but looked displeased as she turned to walk upstairs.

“Any progress on Beringer?” Blake asked.

The dark look she was met with answered her question before the woman spoke. “No,” was all she said before she continued her ascent.

A moment later her door slammed firmly behind her, leaving them alone. Sun turned to Blake. “So…” he said, looking around innocently.

“I’m exhausted,” she said, seeing where his mind was heading and not ready to cross that bridge. “I think I’m going to turn in.”

“Right,” he said quickly. “Yeah, me too. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Sun.”

\--

Blake woke late the next morning. She really had meant to go right to bed when they’d returned home, but despite her bone-deep exhaustion she had tossed and turned and eventually paced around her room for hours before sleep took her. By the time it did, it did so completely, and when she finally opened her eyes it took nearly a minute for her to remember where she was.

The team had long since departed the kitchen, morning report over, but Yatsu had kindly set aside breakfast for Blake. She gratefully popped her plate in the microwave and put a kettle on to boil, rubbing her temples as she waited against the counter. Food and tea worked their way into her sleepy mind and revived her enough that her sore muscles could make their complaints known, and they were many. With difficulty she dragged herself and her second mug of tea to the top floor, listening to the chatter of the team scattered about the house as she passed unnoticed.

The library was quiet and warm. Blake closed the door behind her and enjoyed the peaceful feeling for a moment before beginning her hunt for a book. The giant history volume no longer called to her, so she wandered around until she spotted a section that seemed more dedicated to literature. She soon found an unfamiliar title by a familiar author and gleefully tucked herself into the nearest chair to delve into its pages.

The front door whooshed opened and banged shut, bringing with it the ringing voices of Sun and Jay as they bickered their way inside and called for extra hands. Blake blew out a breath of frustration at being interrupted after only just sitting down, then looked at the page number and realized that she may have underestimated how long she'd been there. A sip of stone-cold tea confirmed that she had indeed been reading for some time. She set the book aside, padding back to the landing and down a few flights until she could see the entryway where Yatsu and Hark had appeared to help with the packages.

Sun looked up, spotting Blake immediately. “Grocery run!” he announced.

“Need help?” Blake offered.

“No,” Jay responded, carrying a package. “You arrived just in time to feel good about offering but too late to actually be helpful.” At first, Blake thought he intended the remark to be cutting, but his wolfish grin told her otherwise.

“I do pride myself in my timing,” she said as she moved to return to the attic.

This time it really was only a moment after she sat that she was interrupted, this time by Sun bounding into the little library. “Whatcha doing?” he asked as he flopped down in a chair and kicked his feet up on the nearby table.

“Reading,” she said, not looking up and hiding her smile behind the pages.

“Lame,” he said, not hiding his grin at all. “You planning on hiding up here all day?”

“Unless I’m needed elsewhere, yes.”

“It’s a beautiful day, you should get out and get some fresh air.”

“I suppose I could read outside,” Blake allowed.

“I was thinking of something a bit more active.”

“What did you have in mind?” she asked.

“Maybe a bit of light sparring, just to keep loose and make sure we stay at the top of the class.”

Blake wanted to say she didn’t need to practice, but the truth was she very much did. Her muscle memory would come back soon but could certainly use some encouragement, and she wanted to be at the top of her game. “Fine,” she said eventually. “But first I am going to read for a while.”

“Mind if I stick around?” Sun asked.

“Do you even know how to read?” Blake teased.

“I’ll find something with pictures,” he responded, not missing a beat.

Blake rolled her eyes. “As long as you’re quiet.”

Sun made a ridiculous pantomime of zipping his lips and then hopped off his chair to hunt for a book. For the next hour or so he spent far more time looking at the shelves than actually reading, but he was quiet, so Blake didn’t say anything. Unfortunately, even his silent presence was distracting enough that she found herself rereading several pages, not that she was about to admit that to him. Eventually, she realized that reading was a lost cause and announced that she was ready to train, and Sun eagerly led the way down the stairs to the yard behind the house.

The backyard was spare, largely just open grass with a low wall along the cliffside. The house blocked it from prying eyes, so they were free to train without drawing too much attention to themselves. After a brief warmup and a discussion of rules, they began sparring, Blake doing her best to keep up but Sun easily countering her strikes. Despite the clear disparity in their skill levels, he never presumed or condescended and it wasn’t until Blake called a stop and asked him to show her how he had executed his latest counter that he did any instructing.

They continued on that way through the afternoon, intermittently sparring and pausing for Sun to explain something he’d done. Apparently, their rhythm was pleasing to more than just themselves, when they stopped for water they found Ivy lying in the grass nearby and studiously picking through another journal. Aqua and Jay came out and joined sometime later, and soon the four of them were taking turns trading blows and combat secrets. Blake was happy that she could hold her own well enough not to be coddled, but she was certain that she would lose in a fair fight to any one of them.

Then again, fair fights had never really been Blake’s preferred approach.

By the time the sun faded behind a distant mountain they were all covered in sweat and breathing hard and laughing and generally having a good time. They collected Ivy and headed toward the door just as Yatsu poked his head out and announced dinner, receiving cheers in response from the hungry crew.

Dinner was loud and fun, only quieting a bit when a dark cloud followed Coco into the room. She apparently had somewhere to be, fortunately, and she wolfed down her food and departed, bringing her mood and Carmina with her as she went. The gang immediately returned to talking and laughing, their conversation bubbling along as they finished their meal and cleaned up the mess, complimenting Yatsu on another job well done all the while. Once they were finished they trickled out of the kitchen and dispersed throughout the house, and Blake soon found herself alone with Sun as they trekked up the stairs. He didn’t ask and she didn’t forbid, so he followed her up to her room, ostensibly to continue their discussion on what to expect the following day.

As they talked they circled each other, Blake creating small tasks for herself and wandering too and fro, Sun trailing behind without quite crowding her. Eventually, they ran out of things to talk about and Blake turned to find him close and quiet, looking at her intensely without pushing, never pushing. He was waiting, she knew, for an invitation to take another step. Not demanding, just waiting.

And she froze.

She couldn’t deny the attraction, and it wasn’t just physical. He had a light that pushed away the shadows in her mind and gave her the sense that maybe, just maybe, she could be happy in this odd life she had been thrust into. Maybe she even deserved to be. But light cannot banish light. Even though her memory of Yang was burning with a fierce intensity born of her own guilt, it was not a shadow that could be cast aside, and it filled her with shame that she could even consider such a thing.

Before she could make up an excuse Sun stepped back, reading her hesitation perfectly. “It’s getting pretty late,” he fumbled. “We should get some rest. Big day tomorrow.”

“Right...yeah.” Blake agreed, cursing herself and her warring emotions as she wished him goodnight. Then he stepped out into the hall and headed for his own room, leaving her alone with her memories.


	18. Two Steps Forward

The rain fell just hard enough to make the ride miserable, but not quite hard enough to stop it. The trail was muddy but not washed out, and it was straight and level enough that even Weiss felt secure on the steady bike with its experienced pilot. In the end, it was the premature dusk of the cloudy day that halted them, and Yang pulled over when Weiss pointed out a rocky outcropping boasting what appeared to be a shallow cave.

Shallow was accurate enough, so accurate in fact that cave was a slightly grandiose term for the little hollow. Still, with some creative use of limbs torn from nearby trees they were able to make a shelter that was big enough for themselves and the bike. After much discussion, they left one corner of it open in hopes a small fire wouldn’t smoke them out.

Soon enough they were huddled around a pile of smoldering wood that was dragging its wet, leafy feet toward being a proper fire. Weiss forced her chattering teeth to still and listened as the rain outside started falling in earnest. Though it wasn’t perfect, their shelter kept the worst of it out, and once the fire truly caught she couldn’t deny that she was relatively comfortable, sitting shoulder to sturdy shoulder with Yang and leaning in close to the flickering flames.

Eventually, Weiss stole a glance at her silent companion, watching the light reflecting in her unfocused eyes. “We’re going to find her,” she said, guessing at the thoughts behind the distant gaze.

“I know,” Yang said, shaking her head and returning to the present. As she did she reached into her pocket and retrieved the only actual clue they had to work with. So much effort for so little, but something was better for nothing. That said, no matter how she turned it the symbol remained as elusive as ever to Weiss. Yang obviously felt the same, and after glowering at the patch for a time she shook her head stuffed it back in her jacket. “Hopefully the people of Higanbana are more talkative, someone there must know what this symbol means.”

“Yeah,” Weiss said, unsure if she actually believed that but unwilling to shoot down their only hope. “Definitely.”

Yang smiled, then shuffled herself so she could stretch out without moving too far from the fire. “Come on, we should get some sleep.”

“Should I keep first watch?”

“No need,” she said, indicating the drumming rain outside. “No one’s coming out in this to hassle us.”

“Fair point,” Weiss said, making herself as comfortable as possible.

There, in a cave on the side of a lonely road, while the rain came down in sheets and they lay miles from anyone or anything they knew besides each other, they slept.

\--

Morning came and brought with it a deluge of sunshine that poured through Weiss’s eyelids and roused her from a dreamless sleep. She looked over at Yang and was relieved to see her blinking her way peacefully awake as well. They ate a quick breakfast in the spangled light filtering through the damp branches, noting with no small amount of pride that their efforts had mostly kept out the rain. Pushing the tangle aside they stepped, blinking, out into the day. The air was clear and crisp, washed clean by the evening’s downpour, and the remaining moisture on the ground was rising into the air as clouds of vapor that rolled around through the shade beneath the trees until it ventured out into the sunlight and was burned off. Birds and frogs and various critters announced their delight into the peaceful forest air as they feasted on the worms and insects that had been drawn out by the rain, and tiny rainbows danced around the edges of trees where droplets of water still sat to scatter the slanting light.

The scene was beautiful enough that Weiss nearly forgot that she had spent the night sleeping in the mud. Had she been alone she may have sat to watch and listen as life pulsed all around her, and while a glance at Yang showed that she was thinking something similar, it also reminded them both of where they were, and why. The gravity of their task pulled them onward and they reluctantly climbed onto the motorcycle. As Yang fired up the engine Weiss grimaced, her growing comfort with the constant roar gone as the noise suddenly seemed garish and horribly out of place. Even Yang tensed a bit and looked back with an apologetic shrug, but there was no way around it. With a shake of her head, Yang turned and put the roaring beast into gear, pulling out into the drying road and testing the traction as she built up speed.

For hours they raced through the shining landscape, stopping late in the afternoon when Weiss announced that she couldn’t take a minute more without stopping to stretch. Yang agreed and pulled off beside the winding river that occasionally passed close to the road. The pair awkwardly hobbled off the bike and tried to shake their limbs out. Yang's stomach issued a monstrous growl, so she crouched down on shaking legs to rummage through the saddlebags. Meanwhile, Weiss peeled her jacket off with a moan of disgust and sniffed it loudly.

“Gods, I stink,” she said miserably.

Yang laughed while she shined an apple on her shirt. “Yeah well, we both do, riding in the rain will do that,” she said, taking a savage bite and grinning through it.

Weiss ignored her antics. “Did you buy soap by any chance?”

“I did actually, back in Hamanashi,” Yang said, tilting her head doubtfully at the river. “You telling me that you’re about to go bathe in a river. You?”

“If my choices are that or smell like a lathered horse, then yes, I’ll take my chances.”

“How did you just make a confession that you smell bad sound bougie?” Yang asked as she dug out the wax paper package containing the bar of soap, handing it over along with a small towel that was, at best, a rough approximation of clean.

Weiss took both while managing not to visibly hold her nose and turned to look for a good spot on the river bank before setting out. “Keep an eye out for perverts,” she called back over her shoulder as she hung her jacket on a nearby tree branch and marched off toward the water.

“I mean or, you know, murderers,” Yang called back to her.

“Whatever, I won’t be long either way.”

Weiss picked her way down to the edge of the lazy river, looking around and gritting her teeth as she stripped down and stepped in. She fully intended to face the bracing cold with stoic silence but failed miserably. Much of her hurried bath was accompanied by Yang’s cackling at her undignified shriek, which only ceased around the time she fled from the frigid water. Once she had mostly dried herself off she raced back up to the bike, demanding that Yang close her eyes while she put on a pair of shorts and a tank top.

“You can’t ride like that,” Yang said once she’d been informed she could open her eyes.

“I don’t intend to, but my clothes didn’t dry properly from the rain so I did my best to wash them out in the river. They just need some time in the sun,” she said, hanging the garments in question across various rocks and tree branches.

Yang shook her head but started removing her own jacket. “Truth be told, we’re only a few hours out, and it might not be the worst idea to be moderately presentable when we show up.”

“See?”

“Yeah yeah, hand over the soap, would you?”

“Here, be my guest.”

Yang strolled down to the river while Weiss pulled out a few morsels of food. She munched absentmindedly while she strolled in aimless circles, stretching up on her toes and bending her knees to try to work the remaining stiffness out of her joints. Presently, Yang came back, failing to mention she was naked as the day she was born and laughing uproariously as Weiss turned away with her face burning at the sight of her.

“Could you…not?!” she cried as her friend laughed.

“Stop being such a prude, I’ve got clothes on now, relax,” Yang said, still chuckling as she hung her own things up beside Weiss’s.

“You’re incorrigible, honestly,” Weiss said, surprised when she turned to see water dripping down both of her friend’s arms. “Hey,” she said, trying to be delicate. “Why didn’t you, you know…”

“What?” Yang asked when she faltered.

“Why didn’t you take your arm off, don’t you need to give the skin under there a rest?” Weiss forced herself to say.

“Oh,” Yang replied, looking down as though just noticing that one of her arms wasn’t fully flesh and blood. “I mean, not really. It was designed for long-term wear; it’s moisture-wicking, temperature neutral, no pressure points. That’s the upside of a custom job like this, fits like it’s part of my body, because it is,” she said, clearly ready to move on.

“Right, yeah, I mean that’s good,” Weiss agreed. “But still…”

“Gods, are you worried I don’t wash my hands well enough, mom?” Yang snarked, though something dark in her expression belied the levity in her voice.

Weiss rolled her eyes and tried to play it off. “No, jeez, sorry for caring about your personal hygiene.”

“Yeah well, I’m a big girl, so you can stop worrying.”

“Of course,” Weiss lied.

\--

Yang’s estimate was spot on. Even taking the time to allow their clothes to fully dry they still pulled into Higanbana just as the sun was setting. The town was more of a way-station than a proper village; it comprised about a dozen tightly clustered buildings along the road, most of which were given over to catering to travelers in one way or another. They had no need for the large storage facilities and instead continued to the inn at the center of town, situated directly across from a large pub.

Yang swung the bike up to the curb, parked it, and finally killed the engine for the day. She and Weiss trooped inside to arrange for a room with the bored-looking innkeeper, the crossed the street to the cheery bar. Inside was warmly lit but sparsely populated, and nondescript music playing from unseen speakers easily covered the murmur of conversation carrying from the few occupants scattered about. At the bartender’s insistence, they hunted for their own table. Yang suggested one along the edge of the second-story balcony that ran around the perimeter of the room, mostly for its excellent view of the patrons below. Presently a waitress in a red silk dress with her hair pinned into a prim bun stopped by to take their order, promising to return with their drinks as she departed.

“What’s your plan?” Weiss asked, pitching her voice so it carried no further than the opposite side of the table.

“We need to pick someone to ask about this symbol,” Yang replied as she scanned the room below.

“Are you sure that’s safe?”

“Quite the contrary, but I’m sure we’ll get nowhere if we don’t.”

Weiss fretted for a moment, realigning the silverware set about her plate several times before looking up. “What if we don’t ask any of the customers?” she said, an idea occurring to her.

“What did you have in mind?”

“Well, this is clearly a common stopping point for travelers,”

“Right…”

“And where do all of the travelers stop to eat and drink?”

Yang’s eyes lit up as she caught on. “Here.”

“Exactly,” Weiss said, tilting her head toward the friendly face of the waitress currently mounting the stairs with their drinks.

She placed their frosty mugs before them and Yang looked up with her most charming smile. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” the woman replied, smiling back in what may have been a receptive manner, though it just as easily could have been a well-rehearsed one.

“You must see all types pass through here, right?”

“It’s been quiet lately, but typically we see dozens every night of the week from all over. Why do you ask?”

“Have you ever seen anyone wearing something like this?” Yang inquired, producing the patch with a casual flick of her wrist and holding it out.

The woman’s smile faltered a bit at the odd question but her curiosity won out, she reached to take it. The jolt of fear that flashed through her eyes was answer enough, but she decided to try to deny it. “No,” she said as she hastily applied a tight-lipped smile to her face. “Never, sorry." She all but threw the patch back as though it were a burning ember, knocking Yang’s drink askew in the process. “Gods, I am so sorry!” she cried, pulling a towel from her waistband and mopping up the spilled liquid in hurried circles. “Let me go get you another one.” Her smile was wild and her eyes manic as she grabbed the empty glass and fled their table.

“Watch her,” Yang muttered. “But don’t let her see.”

Weiss nodded slightly and did just that, taking a drink from her undisturbed glass and checking her nails lazily, all while watching the waitress scurry through the room. “She just returned the glass to the bar,” she murmured, her lips hardly moving. “Still talking-Oh gods Yang that is hilarious!” she crowed, laughing animatedly at absolutely nothing. A moment later her smile vanished. “Sorry, she was looking, she’s making a beeline for…ugh a table below us. She’s definitely talking to someone,” Weiss reported, leaning ever so slightly and shaking her head. “But I can’t see or hear anything.”

Yang nodded and sat back nonchalantly. “Something tells me we’ll know who it is soon enough.”

“That could go very poorly.”

“Sure could, but I’m not in the mood to sit around and twiddle my thumbs.”

“You’re going to get us killed eventually.”

“Maybe, but not today,” Yang said, offering Weiss a jaunty wink and laughing as it was received with a scowl.

A few minutes later the waitress returned with another drink, setting it down and departing without a word. The instant she left a short and stocky man in rough-spun clothes that had been repaired so often they were more patch than anything approached them, grabbing a nearby chair in one of his scarred hands and pulling it up without so much as a “please” or a “may I join you”. His other hand swirled a half-full pint of murky beer, lifting it to his patchy brown beard and taking a long drink before setting it down hard and wiping his mouth on his sleeve, regarding Weiss and Yang closely. “I hear you been asking questions,” he stated.

“Is there a problem?” Yang asked, slumping back in her chair to show him exactly how threatening she found him.

“Not yet there’s not,” he said, letting loose a resonant belch that made Weiss recoil in disgust, much to his amusement. “Let me see that scrap you were wavin’ around.”

Yang narrowed her eyes but saw no other way forward. She fetched the patch and held it out in front of him. He reached to take it, but she flicked it just out of his reach, cocking her head with a challenge of a smile on her face.

Rather than rising to the bait the man sat back and crossed his arms. “Where’d you get that?” he asked, his voice low and dangerous.

“None of your business,” Yang responded, tucking it away and meeting his gaze calmly.

“Why are you asking about it?”

“Because I’m a concerned citizen who’d like to return it to the no-doubt bereft owner.”

The man barked out a laugh. “I’m sure you are!” he said, pounding his ham-sized fist on the table. “What you really are is clueless. You’re asking questions about something you know nothing about. You want my advice-?”

“Not really,” Yang interjected.

“Shove off and leave it,” he finished anyway. “You keep asking after that and you may find more than just answers.”

“So you know about it then?” she pressed.

“How many warnings you need, blondie?”

The spark in the pit of Yang’s stomach flared, but she forced it back down before she spoke. “We’re not looking for trouble, pal,” she said. “Just answers.”

“If you can’t handle trouble I suggest you get out of here, now,” he said, climbing to his feet. As he stood to go he reached for his glass, his eyes opening wide when his hand was stopped in an inhuman grip.

Yang smiled up at him, grabbed his drink, and finished it in a single go. “I said we weren’t looking for trouble.” She let go of his wrist and tossed the empty mug into her now free hand. The thick glass cracked and shattered under the casual power of her fingers. “Not that we couldn’t handle it.” The man watched all of this without comment, turning with a dark look on his face and stomping down the stairs.

“What the fuck-?” Weiss began

“Shh,” Yang said, holding up a finger and watching the man storm out into the night. “So that’s how it is.”

“What? Shouldn’t we follow him?”

“Why?”

“What do you mean ‘why’? so we can find out what he knows!” Weiss hissed.

Yang shook her head. “Oh, he’s not running away,” she said confidently.

“Then where did he go?”

“To get backup, they’ll be waiting for us outside.”

“What?!”

“I said be quiet, jeez,” Yang said, looking around and hoping no one noticed her outburst. “Look, I don’t know who that guy is, but he’s a local.”

“How do you know?”

“Trust me, I know a townie when I see one.”

“Ok, so?”

“So, he’s probably not who we’re looking for, but somehow affiliated with them. He’s also probably the town tough guy.”

“And you just provoked him,” Weiss said, sitting back and massaging her temples as Yang proudly took a drink.

“Sure did,” she announced.

“So, what? We just wait for them to attack us?”

“I mean I was planning on eating dinner first…” Yang said.

“You are unbelievable.”

“At a certain point your refusal to believe is kind of on you,” she said, sticking out her tongue as the visibly shaking waitress silently delivered their food, noting the shattered glass and stammering about sending up someone to take care of it as she left. “Better eat up,” Yang said cheerily, digging into her plate with gusto. She could feel the beginning of the violent rush of excitement that always came before a fight, but she forced herself not to hurry. They ate their food and sat to digest for a bit, and after an hour or so Yang stood up and rolled her shoulders. “I think we’ve kept them waiting long enough, don’t you?”

“Let’s just get this over with,” Weiss said, following her lead. “Do you at least have a plan?”

Yang looked around as she subtly slipped her weighted knuckle guard onto her left hand. “Make sure no one gets behind me, if there’s a gun involved we go for that first.”

Weiss’s jaw dropped. “What if we get shot?”

“Relax, they live in this town, killing people is bad form. They’ll probably just try to rough us up enough to ensure we leave with our tails between our legs.”

“That’s not great either.”

Yang grinned. “Then I guess we better win, huh?”

“Next time, I make the plan.”

“Deal. After you princess,” she said, extending her arm gallantly.

Weiss raised her eyebrow and shook her head. “No, I think you can go first,” she said.

Yang chuckled and tossed some Lien on the table, then led the way down the stairs and outside without a moment’s hesitation. The lights from the bar and the inn didn’t quite reach each other in the middle of the road, and most of the buildings to either side were completely dark. Even with so many convenient places to hide the thugs waiting for them didn’t bother, and as Yang reached the shadowy center of the road she counted four in total, three new guys who all stood at least a couple inches taller than her and their original antagonist who barely reached chest height but was almost twice as wide.

Weiss had lagged slightly behind her but still found herself within the perimeter of the four figures, looking around nervously before turning to place her back to Yang’s. Yang felt her hands shifting slightly, no doubt checking for some of the numerous knives tucked away in her flashy jacket, and hoped that she would know what to do when the time came.

“Did you enjoy your meal, ladies?” the man sneered. “Took your sweet time with it.”

“I like to make sure I’ve had time to digest before a fight,” Yang said. “Otherwise kicking ass gives me heartburn, and that just ruins the experience, you know?” As best she could tell in the dark the two men in front of her were unarmed for the moment, though who knew what sort of nasty surprises they could be hiding. She only hoped that the ones behind her wouldn’t prove too much for Weiss. So long as they were occupied long enough for her to deal with the first two, she figured she could handle things.

Clearly, the men had had enough talk, and as one, they sprung.

Yang had relatively little experience fighting multiple people at once, but she knew that letting them attack her from different angles was a quick way to get overwhelmed. Rather than dealing with either attack directly she dove and rolled aside, forcing the men to turn and approach her from the front. She allowed her eyes to flick over their shoulders to check on Weiss. She was relieved to see that she was still on her feet, and seemed to be at the center of a whirling storm of glinting steel, one that was successfully keeping her shocked assailants at bay for the time being.

But even a momentary distraction can spell disaster in a fight. In the split second she’d looked away, both men had lunged toward her, hands outstretched. Muscle memory and instinct torqued her shoulders and she slipped to her right, pivoting to keep herself facing her opponents and delivering a short right hook that was plenty to floor the taller man. In the process, she had left her other arm unguarded, a mistake that nearly cost her dearly. The short man was every bit as strong as his stocky frame implied, and once he had a grip on her arm he used it to slam her to the ground, driving the wind from her lungs. He wasted no time diving down to straddle her, trying to take advantage of her momentary vulnerability to rain down blows from above. Yang snapped her arms up to protect her head, deflecting his solid right harmlessly off her left forearm. This emboldened him. Aiming to split her guard, he brought his left hand down with all the force he could muster. The blow landed on armor plating that could make a tank jealous, breaking his knuckles and leaving him cursing prodigiously. Yang swatted him aside, not bothering to finish him properly as she regained her feet to find that one of the men Weiss was dealing with had circled behind her and was preparing to strike. A single sucker punch to the temple dropped him like a sack of potatoes. No longer faced with two enemies, Weiss turned her full attention to the one before her.

The man suddenly found himself on his heels, afraid to reach in and lose a finger to the nasty looking blades the seemingly harmless woman had produced from nowhere. Before he could even consider running one of the blades was airborne, tracing a lazy arc toward his head. He never realized that it was only an underhanded toss meant to distract, and while he watched it the butt of another knife hit him so hard in the nose that he didn’t see anything at all for a few hours.

“Not bad,” Yang said, looking at the unconscious man and his liberally bleeding nose. “See? I told you it’d be fine.”

A metallic click sounded behind them, and they turned to find the short man cradling one arm and pointing a pistol with the other. “Don’t celebrate quite yet,” he spat, taking aim with a trembling hand.

With no further warning, the man fired on Yang. The explosion was so loud that none of them, not even the intended target, heard the impact. If they had they would have noted its cartoonish nature, almost like a cowboy expectorating into a spittoon on an old movie set. But they didn’t, they only knew his shot hadn’t landed when they looked to see Yang’s arm uncurled from the reflexive position it held shielding her head. Every part of her was unscathed, her face registering as much shock as the other two as she blinked and waited for the pain that didn’t come.

“I don’t know what you are, but you’re dead!” the man cried, the terror etched on his face visible even in the darkened street as he aimed a second time.

As he drew a bead Weiss flipped her knife over to lie point down in her hand, pulling back and taking aim. Right before she released Yang snapped, “Don’t kill him!” 

Weiss grimaced when the words hit her, tensing her hand and straining to adjust mid-release. Her efforts paid off and she sent the knife into his shoulder rather than his center of mass. The man snarled in pain as his arm fell limp, though he managed to maintain his grip on the now-dangling gun. Yang had dashed forward while the knife was still in flight, and just after it landed she reached out and snatched the gun, crushing it with the satisfying grating of twisting metal before discarding the useless lump in the dirt.

The man watched all of this in horror as he began to realize he may have bigger problems than the knife still protruding from his shoulder. The bullet-blocking, metal-bending arm shot out and grabbed his collar, lifting him onto his toes and bringing him within inches of a set of eyes that seemed to glow from within with a terrible crimson light.

“Tell me what you know,” the demon of a woman before him intoned.

“I don’t know anything,” he whimpered.

Yang examined him coldly. Then reached up with her left hand and flicked the grip of the dagger in his shoulder, drawing a cry of agony. By now patrons of the bar were starting to get curious and approach the windows, but the waitress was doing her best to keep them inside, her look almost as terrified as the gasping man struggling in Yang’s grip.

“I…I can’t tell you, they’ll kill me,” he moaned.

Yang leaned in close enough to smell his sour breath, but she wanted him to know he had more immediate concerns. “You’re making a dangerous assumption if you think I won’t kill you right now.”

“Yang-“ Weiss began, stopping short when her friend shot her a dangerous look.

“Make sure we’re not bothered,” Yang growled.

Nodding and swallowing her argument, Weiss returned to the bar. Yang didn’t care what she told them, so long as she could finish what she started. Even though that the blade in his shoulder belonged to Weiss, the man watched her go as though he was losing a grip on his only lifeline. “Please…” he whispered. “Please, I’m not with them, they just pay me to keep an eye out and rough up anyone who comes through nosing around.”

“Who are they?”

“I…I don’t know, just some fuckin’ mercs-Ah!” he cried out as she pressed lightly on the knife.

“Name,” she said.

“No…I-ow! Fuck! Death’s Messengers, ok? Gods…”

“Where did they go? Don’t tell me you don’t know!”

“I don’t, I swear!” he whined, trying to shrink back when he saw her reaching up again. “Oniyuri! Ok? Please don’t hurt me. They have a camp somewhere near there, I don’t know anymore, please let me go!”

With a grunt of disgust, Yang let him drop, his legs buckling as he crumpled into a heap on the ground. “You and your buddies give us any more trouble before we leave and I won’t be so friendly. We clear?” she said to the cowering figure.

“Ye-yes. I promise, you won’t see any of us again,” he said, too afraid to even look up to meet her burning eyes.

“One more thing,” she said, her tone cold as a cruel smile parted her lips. She leaned down. “That belongs to my friend,” she leered, swiftly pulling the knife from his shoulder and wiping it off on his pants as he writhed and swore.

She strutted calmly back to the pub, her blood still alight with the thrill of battle. She didn’t remember it being quite so intoxicating before, but she didn’t think she completely minded the extra edge it had given her. She felt amazing. Gods, she had blocked a bullet! When she poked her head in with its predatory grin all of the patrons found themselves very preoccupied with the floorboards; only Weiss turned to meet her gaze from the bar where she was talking with the waitress. “Come on, we’re done here,” Yang announced, ignoring the uncomfortable look her friend was giving her as she made to follow.

Yang turned back to the street and saw that the man had already fled, leaving his compatriots in various states of unconsciousness in the middle of the road. Weiss joined her a moment later and held her hand out silently for her blade. Yang made to return it, but her hand was shaking so hard she nearly dropped it. With a self-effacing smile, she swapped the blade to her rock-steady right palm and passed it to her glowering friend. “What?” she asked, but her only response was a sharp exhale as Weiss turned and walked in a quick yet graceful staccato to the inn, refusing to talk at all until they were safely ensconced in their room.

“Weiss, what?” Yang asked.

“What?” her friend asked, looking like the question was the epitome of insanity or stupidity or both. “ _What_?! You don’t know why I’m upset?” she demanded.

“No,” Yang responded.

“I’m upset because you intentionally picked a fight, almost got shot, then proceeded to torture a man. How is that unclear?”

Yang rolled her eyes. “Ok, the fight got a little out of hand-“

“A little out of hand?! You. Got. Shot,” Weiss said, clapping her hands with each syllable to drive her point home. “Did you even know that thing was bulletproof? Or that you could block bullets?”

“The first one yes, the second…not so much.”

“Brothers take you, Yang, you got so lucky, you could be dead!”

Yang threw her hands up. “But I’m not! And I got the information I wanted!”

“How could I forget that little performance?” Weiss cried, pacing back and forth in the narrow room. ”You went completely off the deep end, Yang. What the _fuck_ were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t,” Yang admitted, wincing at the rare show of fury in her typically implacable friend. “I just needed to know what he knew, so I could find Ruby.”

“Do you think that’s what she would want? For you to do something like that in her name?”

“Honestly?” Yang shot back, regaining her momentum. “She’s not here to decide what I do, so I will do whatever is necessary.”

“Like you did in Shion?”

Yang swallowed. “I’m not saying it was kind, I’m definitely not proud of what I did, but I also don’t recall you stopping me.”

“I…” Weiss began, her voice catching and forcing her to try again. “I made it clear that I thought it was wrong, several times,” she said, though it was obvious that Yang had struck a nerve.

“Fine, it was wrong! But where would we be otherwise? I did what had to be done.”

Weiss halted. “So you’ll just do whatever you want then? Are you going to start killing people next?”

Yang's eyes flew wide. "Me? You could have easily killed that guy if I hadn't told you not to."

"I was saving your life," Weiss said, batting aside the accusation. "What you did to him after was in cold blood. What if he hadn't given you answers? Would have taken the life of a defenseless man?"

“No…I wouldn’t-“

“Why not? What if it was necessary?” Weiss crossed her arms and waited. Yang shrank back and groped around for an answer, but none came. Weiss saw her hesitation and continued to press. “And was what you did even necessary? We could have followed him, or asked someone else, or done a million other things. I don’t think that was necessary to find Ruby, Yang, I think you just wanted to hurt someone like you were hurt.”

“I didn’t do anything permanent-“

“You don’t know that.”

“I…fuck!” Yang said, throwing herself down onto the bed.

“Look,” Weiss said more quietly, settling down opposite her slouched friend. “I get that you’re worried about Ruby. I am too, but you can’t use that as an excuse to do shit like…that,” she said, gesturing toward the door. Yang winced at the memory of the man’s screams. “I’m glad you’re feeling more confident, I’m even glad you’re willing to fight again, but if you keep pretending that everything’s fine when it clearly is not then you’re going to keep losing control. You may even hurt someone worse than you did tonight.”

“I don’t know what else to do,” Yang whispered.

“What?”

“I don’t know what else to do!” she said shouted. “I need to get to Ruby, I’m trying to stay focused on that, to forget about…everything, but it keeps cropping up at the worst times. Sometimes it leaves me frozen with terror, but lately, it’s just made me so mad,” she said, gritting her teeth and closing her fists before forcing herself to release them.

Weiss leaned in. “You can’t keep running from this forever. Before you were trying to bury your emotions with this mission, what were you doing?”

“I don’t know. Working?”

“Burying yourself in work?”

“…Yes,” Yang said, her shoulders slumping.

“What happens after this is all over? We get Ruby and go back home? Then what? What will you bury yourself in next?”

“I don't...” Yang trailed off, looking at her friend helplessly. “What do you want from me?”

“I want you to deal with your shit, Yang. One way or the other. No more running, no more hiding, no more pretending. You need to get ahold of yourself,” Weiss said, her words landing harder than any blow had out in the street. “And from now on, unless your life or the life of someone else immediately depends on it, you need to control yourself if and when you fight. I don’t want you to have to live with someone’s blood on your hands because you snapped.”

Yang dropped her gaze to the floor. “I will,” she said in a low voice. “I’ll do all of those things, I…I promise. I’m really sorry Weiss.”

Weiss sighed deeply before crossing the small room and wrapping Yang in a hug. “It’s ok,” she said. “I’m just worried about you.” She held her tight for a time, then released her and returned to her own bed. “Now tell me what you learned.” Yang did as she was asked. Once she finished she stopped to await further judgment, but Weiss simply got up and started readying herself for bed. “Ok,” she said as her only real acknowledgment, judgment laced through her tone but no more than Yang deserved. “We should get some sleep, it’s a long ride to Oniyuri.”

Yang nodded but was too tired to bother changing. She tossed her jacket on the nearby chair and kicked off her boots, and soon both of them were settled in bed. The rush and ebb of adrenaline worked its magic on Yang like it always did, and soon her guilt and fear and rage were lost to darkness.

*** * * * ***

Over the next several days, Blake and Sun settled into a comfortable routine; more often than not going out to the White Fang camp to train and prove themselves while spending their few days-off training even more. It was hard for Blake to ignore the memories that followed the rediscovery of old abilities, especially when she was spending so much time with a group that had once been her life. She only managed to stay focused with the help of her constant companion. In the slivers of time not spent training or meeting with the team, Blake still found herself with Sun, usually visiting some small eatery or tea shop one of them knew. The ease with which he had entangled himself in her life unsettled her when she thought about it too much, which was why she tried not to. She told herself he was simply a new friend, a useful ally, and nothing more.

Occasionally Coco would scowl and grumble through, demanding an update before stomping away. After a little more than a week, apparently tired of hearing the same response every time, she snapped. “We don’t have time for you two to run around playing grab-ass! Either bring me intel or I’m pulling you out so we can focus on something useful.”

“I-,” Blake said. 

But Coco cut her off. “I don’t want to hear it. I’m not sure if you’ve forgotten, but we have a potential war on our hands,” she said, referring to the increasing rumblings from both Mistral and Atlas of late. “And what happened to all that drive of yours? I thought you had a thing against the White Fang, that it was personal.”

“Yeah, but-“

“Just bring me something,” she ordered, stalking out of the room.

Blake looked at Sun, lounging across from her on the couch in the well-appointed living room and shaking his head. “Don’t take it personally,” he said once Coco was out of earshot. “Hark told me she got stonewalled by Beringer. She was almost getting somewhere but he saw something off and accused her of being a fake faunus. Which, of course, she is, so she had to make a quick escape.”

“Fuck,” Blake said, knowing it was sort of her fault that Coco had been in that position at all and attempting to feel appropriately guilty. It almost worked, but she couldn’t help feeling a little smug at the ruse being discovered. She tried to push that down and focus on the mission. “Maybe I should talk to her…”

“No, let her go blow off some steam,” Sun said.

Blake chewed her lip for a minute. “She’s right though,” she said. “We need something useful, and we need it soon.”

“How about the location of the camp?” Yatsu said, stepping into the living room more quietly than one would expect from someone his size.

“What did you have in mind, big guy?” Sun asked, reaching up to catch the small cube that Yatsu had tossed his way.

“GPS, passive, won’t give off a signal until we call for it so it should be nearly impossible to detect. Drop it somewhere near their camp and we’ll be able to find them whenever we want.”

“Solid, got anything else for us?” Sun asked, inspecting the featureless little box.

“Sorry,” Yatsu said. “Nothing that would be much use.”

“No worries,” Sun said, sitting up and flashing him a smile. “This will be plenty.”

Blake sat, silently disagreeing.

\--

The next day of training was focused on stealth, and Blake was thrilled to finally find something at which she could easily best Sun. It seemed that his preternatural ability to sneak up on her was limited to just her. Though he performed well enough in drills, he couldn’t even begin to replicate Blake’s ability to vanish on a whim.

As an added bonus they were told to practice in the forest, which gave them plenty of time to find an out-of-the-way tree with a convenient hollow halfway up its trunk. While Blake kept a lookout Sun hoisted himself up and shoved the little GPS cube as far into the tree as it would go, swinging back down to ground-level when he was satisfied with its placement. “Alright, time to get back before anyone notices we went missing,” he said, rubbing the dirt off of his hands.

“Actually, I need you to cover for me,” Blake said, looking around to ensure they were alone.

“Why?”

“We need more information, and now seems like a good time to get it,” she replied.

“Is this because of what Coco said?” Sun asked, starting to walk back toward where they’d last seen their training group. “Because she was just upset, you shouldn’t always take everything she says so literally…Blake?”

But she was already gone.

Blake felt a pang of guilt as she roved through the camp. Ditching Sun like that wasn’t exactly the move of a team player. He was clever though, not to mention charming ( _focus_ , she thought), he would come up with something to explain her absence. He'd be fine, assuming she didn't mess up. In the full light of day it was difficult to be truly invisible, but dressed in the matching uniform of trainees she could at least be anonymous. Coupled with a feigned sense of purpose as she moved between buildings and she was completely ignored by others going about their business.

Her target was a large structure that seemed the most heavily guarded. Guards meant something worth guarding, and she was hoping that it just might be related to Councilman Oak. At the very least it was likely to be a headquarters of some sort, and where better to learn something useful? Blake's pulse pounded in her ears. Whatever was in there might be the key she was looking for, must be, and she would use it to prevent war and stop the White Fang.

More importantly, she would stop Adam.

A quick circuit of the building showed no alternate ways in, but a courier passing the guards unchallenged gave her an idea. As quickly as she could, but with a manufactured sense of ease, she strode to the shack where a lot of people carrying various folders and packages seemed to be coming and going. She boldly stepped into line as though she belonged, willing herself not to consider how insane her plan was. When the man behind the desk looked up she squared her shoulders and said. “The High Leader is expecting a report.”

“And you are?”

“New recruit, on fetch duty,” she said, knowing she could pass for little else.

The man narrowed his eyes but the growing line behind her made up his mind. “Fine,” he said. “But the scouts don’t report in for another hour.” Blake shrugged, every bit the new girl just following orders. The man sighed and handed her a mostly empty folder. “Run along now,” he said, already looking past her.

Ticket in hand, Blake marched confidently up to the building that she hoped she had correctly identified and made straight for the door. The guards stopped her, but when she waved the report in their faces they grudgingly let her through. The antechamber was relatively small, with a wide door leading into what Blake assumed was an audience chamber. The other messenger was either inside or had already left, and she was alone. After a quick look over her shoulder, she crept up to the door and pressed her ear against it, listening to the voices within.

“There is one more thing, High Leader,” a voice said, quick and nervous. Blake wasn’t surprised, Sienna Khan was an intimidating presence, every inch of her body striped with orange and black, her eyes even sharper than her teeth and far more dangerous. The High Leader was fair, but not known for mercy or tolerance in the face of incompetence. Even those who had known her since before her rise had a healthy respect for the ferocious warrior, and Blake was no exception. But it was not Sienna who answered.

“What did I say about calling me that openly?” a man snapped.

“But…your excellency,”

“Enough!”

Blake’s heart stopped as she recognized the cruel voice. Against every warning in the back of her mind, she cracked the door, peaking through to see none other than Adam Taurus seated in the throne on the far side of the room, staring down at the man sniveling in front of him.

“My apologies…sir,” the man said. “High Leader Khan is set to return to Mistral two days hence, are you ready?”

“Of course, all preparations are complete, you fool,” Adam sneered.

“But…the girl-“

“What about her?”

“If Sienna finds out, she will not be pleased.”

“Then we will see to it that she will not find out. Leave me,” Adam ordered.

“But-“

“I said go!” he boomed, brandishing his finger at the door, directly at Blake.

Or at least, where she had been.

\--

Blake had nearly stopped shaking by the time she rejoined her training group. Whatever Sun had told them must have been convincing, they did little more than give her a few sidelong glances as she took her spot and went through the motions for the rest of the day. Sun kept giving her probing glances, but with no way to get away from prying ears, he could do little but watch her twitch at every sound and look over her shoulder nervously every time someone walked past. Once they were back in Mistral, working their way back up the long path home, Sun finally spoke up. “What happened?”

“Nothing,” Blake said, hugging herself despite the warm evening.

“Ok, that’s a load of bull,” Sun said. “Come on, talk to me.”

Blake shook her head, not wanting to explain what she’d seen. Eventually, she accepted that there were facts relevant to their mission, and with a deep breath she pushed down everything that only had meaning to her. “High Leader Khan is coming to camp in two days.”

“Ok…?”

“And one of her underlings, Adam Taurus, seems intent on claiming that title for himself.”

“Whoa, like a coup?” Sun asked.

Blake nodded. “Probably,” she said, willing herself to wring every hint of personal attachment from the truth as she spoke it. “He was trying to build a coalition to do just that in Vale, his success there likely set him up well. If he’s involved in the war that’s brewing, he no doubt intends to use it to further his aim.”

“You sound pretty knowledgeable about this guy,” Sun said, not asking, but leaving an opening for her to explain.

“We’ve had run-ins in the past,” she said.

Sun regarded her, obviously wanting to press for more but sensing the firm barrier she’d erected. “Want to grab some dinner?” he offered, no doubt hoping to ply her with food and small talk.

Blake was having none of it. “No, we need to report back to Coco, she’ll want to know about this,” she said, convincing herself that she was just doing her job, just completing her mission. That it didn’t matter that it was personal.

She had to tell herself that because she didn’t just want to stop Adam. That wouldn’t be enough. Not anymore. Seeing him there, giving orders and preening as his plans came together, as the world gave him everything he wanted, like he deserved it, like he wasn’t a monster who had destroyed the best thing in Blake’s life, had stirred something within her. Something dark. Something that demanded payment in kind.

But that would have to wait. For now, she would push down her burning need and do her job. That her job would also put her in a position to achieve her own desires was merely a happy coincidence.

They arrived back at the house to find nearly the whole crew in the living room, staring at Ivy. Carmina and Jay were absent, probably off on various errands, but everyone else was in attendance. When Sun and Blake walked in Coco eyed them sourly then jerked her head toward the remaining seats. She looked at Ivy. “May as well start at the beginning so we don’t have to fill them in later.”

Ivy made a face but nodded, her hands a blur in her lap. “I deciphered part of the code, enough of it so I know what they’ve got on Oak.”

“What is it?” Blake asked.

“They have his daughter.”

“I told you, he doesn’t have a daughter,” Hark insisted, clearly repeating an argument he’d already presented.

“Obviously he does,” Aqua said.

“When has Ivy ever been wrong before?” Yatsu added.

Harkin opened and shut his mouth several times. “Never,” he admitted. “But none of my sources have even heard whispers about the possibility of a daughter.”

“She must be illegitimate,” Aqua said.

“Obviously,” Harkin snapped. “You think I didn’t check into that?”

“Easy Hark,” Coco warned. “It’s ok to miss things now and then, don’t take out your frustrations on everyone else.”

“I’m not-!”

“Hark!” Coco said, causing the small man to drop his argument and sit back in a huff. Turning back to Ivy and softening her tone she asked. “Anything else? Any indication of how or why he kept his daughter such a secret?”

“Well…” Ivy began, her hands going white as she gripped them tight and tried to still them.

“It’s ok if you aren’t sure,” Coco coaxed.

“Once, in the description of the daughter, he may have referred to her as a faunus,” she said finally.

The room was shocked into silence. It was Aqua who broke first, laughing as if she’d just heard the funniest joke of her life. When everyone turned to her she only laughed harder, wiping a stray tear away as she tried to collect herself. “I’m sorry,” she said, still chortling periodically. “It’s just so classic. Big faunus hating bigot, secret faunus mistress that he knocks up. That was the story of half of the Atlas elite while I was still up there. Never gets old.”

“I’m glad you find it amusing,” Coco said, fighting her own grin.

“Oh come on, who doesn’t love a good hypocrite?” Aqua asked, goading her on.

“It’s less funny when their faunus children get kidnapped as a result,” Blake said, snapping everyone back to the seriousness of the situation.

Aqua cleared her throat. “Uh, right, sorry,” she mumbled.

“It’s ok,” Blake said. “Also, I have an update.”

“Oh?” Coco asked, intrigued.

“I think the White Fang has her, and I don’t think the High Leader knows.”

“Well, isn’t that interesting,” Coco said, giving Blake her full attention. “Explain.”

So she did, keeping to the facts and leaving out her connection to them. Even still, Harkin broke in midway through. “How do you know so much about the inner workings of the White Fang?” he asked.

“I’ve been working to stop them for years now, getting to know how they work has saved my life,” she said evasively. He didn’t press further so she continued, glad she didn’t have to answer any difficult questions. “I think if we can tell the High Leader what’s being carried out under her nose she’ll shut it down. She’s not one to start fights unless she knows she can win, and she has no tolerance for subordinates who go behind her back.”

Blake could see the gears turning in Coco’s mind as she absorbed the new information. “We can work with this,” she said to no one in particular. “We can definitely work with this.” Eventually, she remembered that the others were still there. “Anything else?” she asked. Everyone shook their heads, so she dismissed them, saying she needed time to consider their next move.

A few hours later Blake lay in bed, so far from sleep that she didn’t even know where to start searching for it in her large, comfortable bed. Her very large, very comfortable, very empty bed. She kept coming back to the shock of seeing Adam again, of knowing how close he was. Despite hunting him for so long it still felt like being struck by lightning.

The fear and fury and determination that had arisen earlier had apparently awoken other appetites, and after taking one more look at the vast expanse of vacant sheets beside her, she made up her mind. She rose, not bothering to put real clothes on over what little she wore to bed, and crept down the stairs. She slipped into Sun’s darkened room. Before he even realized she was there she shut the door behind her, closed the distance between the door and his bed, and pounced to straddle his prone form.

“Wha-?” he tried to ask, but his question was silenced by her lips, pressed firmly against his own while her nimble hands explored his body. Blake’s mind was awash in so many emotions she didn’t even bother trying to parse them, she just let them whirl and churn and feed the hunger she could no longer deny.

Sun gently pushed her back, looking at her closely. “Blake,” he said softly. “What’s come over you?”

“Nothing,” she said testily, leaning forward and kissing his neck before moving down onto his chest. “I’m just tired of letting the past stop me from enjoying the present.” As she spoke she thought of Adam, of the sinking feeling of helplessness she had felt when she first saw him, of the cold rage that had taken its place, assuring her that she could destroy him, that when she was done he wouldn’t be able to haunt her, or anyone, ever again.

“That doesn’t sound like you,” Sun said, not exactly fighting her. “That sounds like Coco.”

Blake paused for a moment, her eyes easily cutting through the gloom as she glared at him. “So? Are you complaining?”

“I…” Sun said, but a subtle motion from Blake’s hips destroyed his argument before it could form.

Satisfied that he was done talking Blake continued, her breath catching when Sun fully joined in and forcefully turned them over so he was on top. It should have concerned her that her thirst for vengeance and violence was feeding her lust, but she could hardly think at all beyond the sensual flutter below her navel at the thought of finally defeating her personal demon. This time it would be Adam who lost everything. This time she would stand victorious.

And then what?

Blake went rigid as the answer washed over her: then she would go back to Yang. The one thing she really wanted, the only thing. More than victory. More than vengeance. More than anything she had ever wanted or could ever want. She just wanted to pull her close, one more time.

What was she doing?

“What is it?” Sun asked, sensing the shift in her mood as it swept through her body.

“I…” Blake said, wiping her eyes furiously before he could see her tears. “Nothing, it’s nothing.”

“Please don’t lie to me,” he said, pulling back further. “Not now. Do you want to do this?”

“I want to…”

“I don’t think you do.”

“I _want_ to want to,” she said finally.

Sun rolled to the side, facing her and looking concerned, but not angry as Blake would have expected. “That’s not the same thing,” he responded.

“I’m sorry-“

“Don’t apologize,” he said, reaching out to wipe away another tear as it coursed down her cheek. It was like trying to stop a river with a teaspoon, but she appreciated the gesture. “Just tell me what’s really going on.”

Blake looked at him, struck by how much she didn’t deserve his compassion. She really did want to want to be with him, but he was right, that wasn’t the same. “Adam was the one who hurt my partner,” she began, at a loss for how to explain how heavy that statement really was.

But Sun wasn’t a naif, and he nodded his understanding. “She wasn’t just a partner, was she?”

“No,” Blake said quietly. “She very much was not.”

“Who was she to you, Blake?”

“Do I need to explain?”

“Yes, but not for me. I think you need to say it out loud for yourself.”

Blake swallowed and looked around the room, seeing only the face of the woman she missed so badly that she felt it as an ache in her bones. “How do I even begin to put a label on it? ‘Girlfriend’ sounds so trite, so juvenile. That’s what she was, but that doesn’t even begin to encompass who she was to me.” She paused for a moment, letting the tears flow down her face as memories both sweet and painful flowed through her mind. “I guess she was…my person, you know? I don’t know how I feel about terms like ‘the one’ or ‘soulmate,’ they sound too much like destiny, but she was mine, and I was hers. She was for me, the only one for me.” She took a shuddering breath. “And now I may never see her again. And if I do, she would have every reason to hate me for what I’ve done.”

“I doubt that-“ Sun said.

“Why?” Blake burst out. “She should! I got her hurt so badly and then I just…left. I left. She has no idea where I went or why.”

“Then I guess you’ll have quite an apology to deliver when you go back to her.”

“Shouldn’t you be rooting against the competition?” Blake asked, laughing through her tears.

“I’m rooting for you to be happy,” Sun said, meaning every word.

Blake looked at him in disbelief. “I don’t deserve your kindness.”

“Sure you do.”

“I really don’t,” she insisted. “There’s so much you don’t know.”

Before she could stop herself, she told him everything. For only the second time in her adult life, she told her own story from start to finish, leaving nothing out. When she explained her involvement with Adam, Sun’s eyes went wide as he came to understand the true horror of what had happened in Vale. She had only intended to tell him about her time with the White Fang, but once the floodgates were open there was no stopping. She told him of how she thought she’d escaped, only to be roped back in when she learned of the plot in Vale. Then she told him about Yang; about the wonderful, magical person she had dragged into her dangerous life, fallen madly in love with, and left broken and alone. Sun was silent through it all, listening intently and never interrupting the deluge of words. Finally, she came to the end, describing in lurid detail what had happened on the night everything had come crashing down, then explaining why she ran and how she landed in Mistral. 

“Fuck,” Sun said when she finally fell silent.

Blake’s laugh rang hollow. “That’s one way to sum it up.”

“That’s so…heavy,” he said.

“I know.”

“I’m really sorry.”

Blake shrugged. She tried to dismiss his words, to say something pithy about how it was what it was, and then brush it all off. But she couldn’t. Her past was heavy, and it hung from her soul by an unbreakable chain of her own design, threatening to drag her down with every step. Instead, she simply wept, burying her face in the pillow that smelled nice and welcoming but wrong. Before long she was encircled in Sun’s arms, gently this time, cradling rather than grasping, and she allowed herself to be drawn into his embrace.

“Can I stay here tonight?” she asked after a time. “Just to sleep. I…I don’t want to be alone.”

“Of course,” he said.

“You’re sure you don’t mind?” she asked.

“No, I don’t mind,” he said, his voice sad but resolute as he gently stroked her hair.


	19. Two Steps Back

Yang wasn’t flying, she was fighting.

And she was winning.

But for every faceless opponent she knocked down, another took their place. On and on she fought, her rage building with every swing and heart pounding so loudly she could hardly hear the roar of the crowd. She struggled to draw breath into her screaming lungs, but something was in the way, covering her mouth, sickly sweet, she reached up to pull it away…

“Stop.”

Yang froze and opened her eyes. The room was dark but there were shadows all around, including the one looming over her holding the damp rag over her lips. The light flicked on and she blinked rapidly at the sight of men and women in uniforms, most of them pointing guns at her. The speaker was a woman with short dark hair above fierce eyes. Those eyes were trained on Yang but she could see her outstretched arm aiming a pistol directly at Weiss, already bound and gagged and staring up in horror.

“Good girl,” the woman said. “Our informant claimed you two are pretty decent in a scrap, and warned us about that arm of yours, so you just sit tight and breath deep. If you move, I shoot your little friend, deal?”

Yang didn’t respond. Even if she had wanted to the rag was still covering her mouth, and the room was slowly starting to spin in lazy circles. She fought to keep her eyes open, wanted to assure Weiss somehow that everything would be ok, but before she could complete her thought the room swirled away into darkness.

\--

She woke sometime later under the midday sun, jostling about on a tattered seat. The trees blurring by and the hum of an engine placed her in the back of some sort of car. As her head cleared she saw it was little more than a roll-cage and four seats, maybe a dune buggy. Weiss was sitting in the seat next to her, and though she was still bound at the wrists and gagged, Yang noted that she’d been allowed to get dressed, while her wiggling toes informed her that someone had been kind enough to stuff her feet back in her own boots. Not that it gave her an overly charitable opinion of her captors, but it was something. Weiss bolted upright and reached for Yang, relief pouring from her eyes. Her hands brushed Yang’s cheek, then fell back to her lap as she let fly what likely would have been a legendary diatribe, had it not been reduced to grunts and unintelligible mumbles by the ragged cloth filling her mouth.

Eventually, Weiss fell sullenly silent and Yang blinked her eyes, still trying to clear the fog from her head as she looked around. The front seat of their little buggy was occupied by two people in the uniforms she recalled from the night before, and she assumed the four in the identical buggy ahead of them wore the same. Turning her head she nearly choked on her rage as she saw the woman who had been leading the little band bringing up the rear on Bumblebee.

It was hard to stay mad, however, when the very act of turning had caused a sharp pain in her left hand. Looking down she saw that both her wrists had been wrapped with a narrow steel cable and attached to a ring below the seat. She had no doubt she could snap it with just her right arm, but that would require pulling against her fleshy left, which immediately proved a nonstarter. Instead, she just sat and fumed, waiting as the little vehicles bore them toward their destination.

Her only consolation came from looking more closely at the uniforms in front of her. Each of their shoulders bore a familiar sign, the clock surrounded by what was beginning to look to Yang like some sort of wing. She stared hungrily at the symbol, the identical match of the one tucked away in her pocket. Wherever they were taking them, it must be where Ruby was.

\--

Once the initial fear had passed, the trip was interminably dull. Even the searing pain in her wrist and shoulders became nothing more than background noise to Yang as they tore across the landscape. She perked up after a few hours when they took a sudden turn off the side of the main road, seemingly at random. The turn led to a well-concealed path, though the incessant bouncing over ruts and mounds didn’t give Yang an overly high opinion of those who’d constructed it. It was so rough that they were eventually forced to slow to a crawl to pass. Yang got some small satisfaction in peering over her shoulder and watching the commander nearly fall several times, even getting off and struggling to push the big bike over a particularly nasty section as she lagged farther and farther behind.

Several teeth-rattling minutes later they came in sight of a camp ringed in a hastily constructed fence composed of tall posts strung with vicious-looking razor wire. The armed guards standing at the wide gate waved a greeting to the driver as they passed into the camp. It was mostly made up of small, identical tents all arranged in neat rows with informal avenues running at right angles between them. A few larger tents dotted the perimeter, including one in the center of the far side of the camp that carried a large banner displaying the now-familiar logo.

Rather than head for that, they turned off toward a long, low tent to the left of the entrance. Their buggy pulled up to a sharp stop next to the one they’d been following, all of whose passengers had leaped out and immediately pointed their guns directly at Yang. Two of them even circled to the far side to make sure she was completely covered. The driver of her vehicle hopped out and grabbed Weiss casually, slinging her over his shoulder and ignoring her muffled protests as he drew a pistol with his free hand. “Alright,” he said, addressing Yang. “My buddy here is going to release your hands.” His copilot nodded hesitantly in confirmation. “And you’re not going to do anything other than raise them, slowly, in the air. If you try to escape or do anything other than exactly what I say, we’ll shoot you, and then we’ll do all sorts of terrible things to your little friend here before we shoot her. Are we clear?” Yang nodded, pushing down the budding flame of anger in her chest. “Good,” the man said, jerking his head toward her seat while looking at his sweating comrade. The man reluctantly reached down, and after fiddling with something for a few seconds managed to trigger the release mechanism on the wire that was holding her. As slowly and calmly as she could, Yang sat up and raised her hands, and when instructed to do so, she climbed awkwardly out of the vehicle, never lowering her arms.

They marched her into the tent, two walking ahead of her and two behind, all with guns leveled. It was far more attention that Yang thought she really deserved, but she wasn’t about to correct them. Two guards waited inside the tent, standing beside a cage of sorts that ran the length of the interior and contained a couple dozen filthy people in various states of huddling or cowering. The ragged group watched silently as the bizarre scene unfolded.

Weiss was brought in next, dumped on the ground, hauled to her feet, then quickly and none-too politely patted down. The woman searching her shook her head at her companion, and he chuckled as he upended a bag on a metal table nearby. Yang watched as her jacket tumbled out, followed by a shower of clattering knives, far more than she had suspected one person could have had stashed away. She turned to Weiss, but she shrugged as her gaze fell. No surprises left up her sleeves, it seemed. One of the guards, a bored-looking man with more than a few scars raked across his face, fished out a set of keys and opened the door to the cage. The woman who’d searched Weiss cut the rope binding her wrists, then unceremoniously shoved her into the makeshift cell. Weiss immediately reached up, ripped out the gag, and took a deep breath, only to be cut off by the scarred man. “You start carrying on or making a fuss and we’ll kill your friend, you hear? We only need one of you alive for questioning.”

Weiss narrowed her eyes and closed her mouth, and watched silently as Yang received her own pat-down. There was nothing there for the woman to find, but she wasn’t sure quite what to make of the arm her cohort were all so wary of. “Does it come off?” she asked finally.

Yang shook her head. “No, it’s bolted on,” she lied. “You’re welcome to try to pull it off,” she added with a grin.

The woman considered this briefly before calling out to one of the others. In a moment he sidled over with a set of thick manacles. The woman commanded Yang to put her arms behind her back, when she did the cuffs were snapped in place. The weight of them and the awkward angle required to pin her wrists together made her shoulders cry out in pain almost immediately, but she refused to show it. Instead, she walked proudly into the gate as it was held open for her, and turned to leer at the team of trained killers as they sighed in relief and lowered their weapons.

The group who’d delivered them filed out of the tent just as a roar from outside announced the arrival of their leader. A moment later she strode in, her breath calm but the color in her cheeks speaking of the back-breaking work required to maneuver the bike through the trail. “Here’s the deal,” she announced, not wasting any time. “You two don’t cause any trouble, you might get out of here alive. After you’ve answered a few questions, of course. Especially you, Miss Schnee,” she added, laughing when Weiss’s eyes went wide. “Yes, we know who you are. If you and your family cooperate, you’ll be back in your palace before you know it.” When she received nothing but mute glares by way of response she smirked and turned to go, her eyes falling on the table that held their possessions as she did. Stopping, she picked up one of Weiss’s stilettos and examined it with a practiced eye. “Not bad, I think I’ll take it,” she said, smiling broadly as she strolled out the exit flap, leaving them with the pair of lazing guards.

As soon as she was gone Yang began looking around frantically at the other prisoners, most of whom had already closed their eyes or simply retreated into silence and didn’t meet her eyes as they swept over each person, seeking a familiar face.

But she wasn’t there.

Yang scanned again, her breath coming faster as Ruby continued to not be among the bedraggled prisoners. One woman sighed and rose to her feet, beckoning them over. She was middle-aged and fit, her hair was probably a reddish-gold but currently hung lank and dirty to her shoulders. Her pale green eyes still held a spark, however, and she looked them both over as they approached her corner.

“I would welcome you, but that seems inappropriate,” she said, her voice low but even. Under other circumstances, it may have danced with natural music, but now it was just a touch more animated than monotone. “Did I hear that vile woman say Schnee? You wouldn’t be Weiss by any chance?” the woman asked, frowning when her suspicions were confirmed. “You were a student at Beacon, weren’t you?”

“I was,” Weiss said, cocking her head. “How did you know?”

“Everyone knew we had a Schnee on campus. I’m Dr. Peach, I was…am on the faculty at the medical school.”

“So this _is_ the volunteer group from Beacon,” Yang said, looking around desperately. “Where’s Ruby?”

“Miss Rose?” the woman asked.

“Yes!”

“You must be Yang,” she said sadly. “She talks about you a lot,” she added with a half-smile.

“Where is she?”

The doctor shook her head. “I’m not sure. We were all brought here several days ago, maybe a few weeks… I’ve lost track of exactly when.” Her eyes clouded with memory. “We’ve been put to work periodically tending to their sick or wounded, always at gunpoint,” she said, looking away and shivering briefly. “Soon after we arrived, they came in and grabbed a few of us, saying they had a special job. The last boy they grabbed was a student and he…he started struggling, saying he didn’t want to go, that he wouldn’t help them. They…shot him. Right in front of us." Her eyes were dry but haunted in a way that spoke of shedding plenty of tears already. “After that everyone froze, no one wanted to go but they were too afraid to resist. Ruby stepped up and volunteered to join those who had already been dragged outside. They haven’t returned.”

Weiss barely stifled a gasp, then turned as though to commiserate or offer comfort, but Yang shook her off. Why would she need comfort? She felt a wild smile taking over her face, a perfect match for the violent hope that was blossoming in her chest. Some part of her knew it was akin to madness, but she pushed that worry aside. “She’s still here,” Yang said quietly. “I know it.”

Weiss stared at her for a moment, no small measure of doubt and concern written across her face. “Even if she is,” she finally said, her voice dropping to a whisper even though the guards seemed completely uninterested in whatever powwow was happening in the corner. “How are we going to get out of here and find her?”

“One thing at a time,” Yang said. “First, we wait for nightfall.”

*** * * * ***

At some point, sleep must have come for Blake, and when she next opened her eyes light was streaming through the blinds. A gentle snore emanating from the pillow next to her snapped her fully awake, and she looked over to find Sun still sleeping soundly. Watching him confirmed that feeling that had so frustrated her the night before. He was kind and sweet and funny and so amazing in so many ways.

But he wasn’t Yang.

She heaved a sigh and sat up, angry at herself for coming down in such a frenzy and leaving herself stranded to ascend the stairs in a state of partial undress. A thumping from upstairs interrupted her worries. Someone was knocking, rather loudly, on her door. A moment later thunderous footsteps on the stairs preceded a repetition of the pounding knock, this time on Sun’s door.

“What’s going on?” he asked sleepily, sitting up and rubbing his eyes.

“Blake, I know you’re in there,” Coco’s voice announced.

“So what if I am?” Blake replied grumpily, walking over to the door and opening it, no longer concerned with what she was, or wasn’t, wearing.

Coco looked her up and down, her anger flaring noticeably. “Get dressed,” she snapped. “Then come downstairs, now.”

“Is that an order?” Blake asked, her tone far from compliant.

“No,” Coco said, leaning in close and lowering her voice. “But if you don’t do it I’ll have Aqua come up and hold you still while I dress you, and then we’ll drag you down.” Without waiting for an answer she turned on her heel and stomped down the stairs, leaving Blake mystified. Sun shrugged his ignorance when she gave him a questioning look over her shoulder. In the end, she was left with no real options other than to do as she was told. Curiosity spurred her on as she rushed to throw on clothes before pelting down the stairs, Sun close behind. They both pulled up short when they reached the living room, surprised to find that everyone was up and waiting for them in funereal silence.

“Sit,” Coco said, pointing at the seats that had been left for them. Only Sun obeyed.

“I think I’d rather stand,” Blake said, crossing her arms.

Coco snorted. “Fine,” she said, rising from her perch on the arm of the couch. “Yatsu.”

The big man stood awkwardly, holding a print out in his large hands. Between the somber mood of the room and the way Coco had called him like a witness to the stand, Blake couldn’t help but feel she was on trial. Worse, the trial was already over and she was simply awaiting her sentence. After trying and failing several times to say something, Yatsuhashi gave up and hung his head. Without looking at her, he held out the paper to Blake, and she snatched it from his fingers.

It only took one glance to recognize the wanted poster that had caused her so much grief already. “Fuck, is this what you’re all so worked up about?” she demanded, crumpling it up and tossing it aside to the wide-eyed surprise of the judge and jury. When they all continued staring at her she looked back at the big man. “Did you bother to pull the rest of my file?”

“I…” he began.

“It was all redacted,” Coco filled in. “All except your name. You failed to mention your last name was Belladonna when we were introduced.”

“It didn’t seem important,” Blake said.

“I think it’s pretty fucking important to know when I have terrorists on my team.”

“Former terrorist, thank you.”

“You sure about that?” Coco accused. “You seemed pretty eager to go running back to them.”

“Brothers, I can’t deal with this right now,” Blake said, massaging her temples. “You might want to try reading the rest of my file.”

“That does seem like a good idea…” Harkin cut in, but Coco silenced him with a sharp gesture.

“I’ve seen enough,” she said.

“You haven’t seen anything,” Blake said.

Sun jumped to her defense, “Yeah, Coco, you don’t know the whole truth-“

“Would you like to know what I know?” Coco snapped. “That redacted file isn’t the format of an agent, it’s what we use for arrests or, at best, witness protection. Qrow wasn’t her handler, he was either her jailer or her case manager.”

Blake could tell she was gaining momentum and aimed to cut it off. “I can explain-“

“I also know,” Coco continued, her rage building. “That every time she’s provided her ‘so-called’ help we’ve ended up two steps backward.”

“That’s not fair!” Sun exclaimed.

“Or true,” Harkin added, more sedately.

“Isn’t it?” Coco asked, posing the question to the room.

“She got the journal,” Ivy pointed out, her voice quiet but firm.

“The journal with no key, with no contextualizing information, that has kept you busy since it was brought here without yielding enough data to act on,” Coco responded, not softening her tone when the codebreaker shrank back. “How do we even know it’s real?”

Sun jumped in next. “She got Oak to talk-“

“Oh yeah, and a fat lot of good the information she got from him has done. Oh, and let’s not forget that she burned that bridge so thoroughly that even Hark is having trouble getting updates out of his office.”

Hark looked up, his eyes darting between Coco and Blake. “What about the new information? On the White Fang? That could be huge for us.”

“The information that we have no way to corroborate, and requires us to, what? Have an audience with the High Leader of the gods-damned White Fang? That information? Are we sure that’s not just a trap?” Coco demanded.

Aqua leaned forward. “Maybe. But she totally saved our asses back at the old safe house.”

“Isn’t it just a little convenient that moments after she arrived, a squad of mercenaries showed up to kill us? Then she just so happened to have a big convenient house gift-wrapped and ready to go when we needed it?” Coco ranted.

“Oh come on, that sounds like conspiracy theory nonsense,” Aqua retorted.

“Wake up!” Coco cried. “We work for a fucking secret agency and we’re being hunted. Are you really willing to bet your life that all of this is a coincidence? That Blake didn’t go back to her roots the second RLIC fell apart and could no longer hold her? That she isn’t a double agent getting ready to serve us up on a silver platter to her masters?”

The room fell silent at her barrage of questions. Individually, any of her accusations would have sounded wild and unhinged, but as a collection, they painted a frightening picture. Her reminder that all of their lives were on the line was an effective attempt to drive out what understanding they may have had left for the accused’s plight and replace it with self-preservation.

Sun looked around at his teammates in disgust. “You guys can’t seriously be buying into this. It’s all total bullshit!”

“Would anyone who’s not screwing Blake like to speak up in her defense?” Coco asked the room. 

Her words hit Blake like a slap in the face. “What happened to ‘none of your business how I choose to comport myself’?” she sneered at her accuser.

“That ends when the way you comport yourself clouds your judgment,” Coco replied.

Sun shook his head. “Fuck off Coco. This isn’t about that. It’s about you not knowing the whole story.”

“I know enough,” Coco replied, then her voice took on a practiced, formal tone. “Blake, you are hereby to be detained in this house as a prisoner of RLIC per the powers and responsibilities granted to us by the Vytal Treaty. As soon as we are able, we will deliver you to law enforcement for processing and a fair trial.”

“Is that so?” Blake said, stepping closer to the woman and staring her down. “And who, exactly, is going to detain me?”

Coco narrowed her eyes, then looked past her. “Yatsu, to me,” she barked.

The big man shook his head sadly and crossed his arms. “I’m sorry boss, this doesn’t feel right.”

“Fucking…” Coco grumbled, trailing off. “Aqua?”

“I’m from Atlas,” came the reply. “So I’ve seen humans gang up on faunus while throwing around legal jargon plenty of times. Often ends with the accused dying under mysterious circumstances.” The lanky woman leaned back and put her hands behind her head. “I don’t know if she’s innocent or not, but I won’t be part of mob justice.”

Blake was frustrated that neither was actively speaking up for her, but she wasn’t exactly in a place to give a lesson on how being a bystander wasn’t that much better than being an active participant. Besides, there was still one more person for Coco to call on.

But she didn’t need to. Jay knew he was the only one left, and he’d apparently made up his mind. Without a word, he leaped from his seat, but before he could make it across the room he was brought to the ground by a hand on the back of his collar. It was over in a flash; before Jay could even think to retaliate Sun had one arm around his neck and the other pinning the hand that had drawn a gun seemingly from thin air.

Much to Blake’s surprise, Sun hadn’t been the only one to spring into action. Without leaving her reclined position on the couch, Aqua had produced a sidearm of her own, which she had pointed squarely at Jay. Meanwhile, Yatsu had thrown himself across the room, placing his considerable bulk between them. Ivy and Hark had frozen, both staring wide-eyed at the commotion, while Carmina looked poised to move with no indication of who she was planning to help.

Jay looked around, his fury at being caught quickly draining. “Sorry boss,” he said with a shrug. Glancing at Blake before looking away awkwardly he added, “It’s nothing personal, I just don’t want to die with a knife in my back.”

Blake shook her head. “If I had wanted you dead all I had to do was leave you in that shit hole where I found you.” Everyone looked away at that. Regardless of how it had come to pass, there was no denying the fact that she had saved all of their lives. Blake turned to face her would-be judge. “So, what now? You going to detain me yourself.” Coco stared daggers at her, holding her ground but not moving to try and grab her. “Yeah,” Blake spat. “That’s what I thought.” Coco stumbled back as she shouldered her way out of the room and stormed up the stairs, no one daring to follow.

It only took her a minute to shove her meager possessions back into her bag. She heard footsteps bounding up the stairs as she slipped out the window, and though she suspected it was Sun, she didn’t wait to find out. By the time he reached her room she was long gone, the billowing curtains in front of an open window the only sign she left of her passing.


	20. Going on the Run

Every second crawled by while Yang waited, the increasingly urgent discomfort in her shoulders only adding to her agitation. Soon the rest of her body added to the string of complaints, making known the many ways in which it had been ignored all day. Not finding herself in much of a mood for subtlety, she tottered to her feet and walked to the edge of the cell across from where the guards lazed, leaning her forehead against the bars and staring them down.

“I’m hungry,” she stated. “You planning on starving us to death or what?”

“Dinner’s coming, keep your shirt on,” the guard on the left said, examining whatever morsel he’d just picked from his own teeth.

“Or don’t,” his companion offered, offering her a disgusting wink.

Yang curled her lip but held back the first retort that came to mind. A slim hope occurred to her. “I also have to pee,” she announced.

“There’s a bucket over in the corner.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Sorry if this establishment isn’t up to your standards, m’lady.”

Yang glared at the man as he mockingly bowed and removed the fancy hat he wasn’t wearing with a flourish. “Will you at least take these things off so I can use it?” she asked, turning and wiggling her bound arms.

“No way in hell, figure it out.” 

She stared at them for a few moments longer, hoping one would cave, but eventually gave up and huffily tracked back to the other side of the cage. It had been worth a shot, but she checked ‘get the guards to let her out’ off her list of possible escape methods. Instead, she waited and seethed, adding every bit of discomfort and indignation to the pile of hurt and pain that she would ignite into a roaring fire of rage when the time was right.

Dinner turned out to be stale bread and lumps of some unidentifiable meat, but the prisoners weren't a choosy bunch. Hunger is the best seasoning, after all. Yang and Weiss quietly questioned the doctor while they ate, taking advantage of the fact that she, at least, was willing to speak with them. Everyone else, mostly younger people who were likely students, simply huddled over the sad meal in pained silence, looking around nervously at every sound.

“So what happened, how did you end up here?” Weiss asked, holding out a piece of bread for Yang to bite into.

“We set up camp just outside of Shion,” Dr. Peach replied. “We had been further west, helping out smaller villages north of the main road, up the coast, but word went out that a raiding party had hit Shion multiple times, so we radioed around and a local merchant with a barely working airship gave us a lift.” She looked down, spinning the bread idly between her fingers but not taking a bite. “By the time we got there many of those who had been injured were dead. We did what we could for those still alive, but between the number of lives that were lost and the general mistrust of the local populace, morale was pretty low. After the second day, Dr. Goodwitch and I started discussing moving on.”

“Wait,” Yang said, swallowing a mouthful of the crusty bread. “Did you say Dr. Goodwitch?”

“Yes. Do you know her?”

“Kind of…it doesn’t matter. What happened?”

“The raiders came back that night, but they didn’t go into town. They came for us.”

“What?” Weiss asked.

The doctor looked around, fighting to keep her voice pitched low. “You heard me, they came for us, only us. Some of the students cried for help before they were gagged, but no one came despite us being well within shouting distance of the nearest houses. While they dragged us and our things away I saw that woman who was in here speaking to you earlier, Vernal is her name, she was counting out Lien to the mayor. When she was done he gave a short bow and scurried off, not even looking at us as we were dragged away into the woods. That’s the thanks we got for trying to help.

“From there they marched us for days on end, only stopping at night, beating any who complained when their gags were removed for dinner. They kept us out of sight of the main road, not that anyone would have helped us anyway, and only returned to it when we got to Higanbana. There, they stashed us in a warehouse for a few hours until they could get a truck and drive us the rest of the way.”

“And they didn’t say why they were pulling a few of you out of the main group?” Yang inquired.

“No.”

“Who else did they grab?”

“Dr. Goodwitch, for one, as well as Dr. Oobleck. Then a couple of residents I didn’t know well, and Miss Rose,” the woman said, her shoulders slumping. “I’ve tried to help those remaining to stay positive but, well, you can see for yourself,” she said, gesturing toward the huddled figures. “And I can’t exactly blame them.”

Yang looked around, hoping that the morose crowd wouldn’t impede their own escape. “They just need to hold on a little longer,” she said, shaking her head at the questioning look the doctor gave her and moving off to find an inconspicuous place to sit, trying and failing to get comfortable once she had.

“What’s the plan?” Weiss asked, joining her.

“We wait for nightfall and hopefully an extra lazy guard. You keep a watch and run interference while I bust us out. Simple.”

“Are we not going to address the fact that your method of busting us out is currently pinned awkwardly behind your back?”

Yang smiled. “We will,” she said. “Soon.”

\--

Soon turned out to be shortly after the sunlight peeking in from outside faded and the two guards were replaced with one, muttering all the while about how he had drawn the short straw and had to babysit their ‘guests’ overnight. He took a single, uninterested look at the sad lot huddled on the floor in the dark before snorting his disgust and setting about building himself a bed out of the loaded burlap sacks stacked around the perimeter. Satisfied, he dimmed the lamps in the tent and settled in, emitting a horrendous snore almost immediately upon closing his eyes. 

Yang nodded to Weiss in the gloom and the pair moved to the corner furthest from the snoring guard. In hushed tones, Yang hurriedly explained how the release worked on her arm, then turned and talked through it again until she felt the disconcerting sensation of her right arm vanishing from her awareness as though severed. Again. She gritted her teeth through the wave of emotion that accompanied it and focused on the added weight she felt on her left wrist. With Weiss’s help, she maneuvered both of her arms around the side of her body, rolling her shoulders stiffly after hours of discomfort.

When Weiss reached out to help her reattach the arm she shook her off, jerking her head back toward the sleeping guard. “I’ve got this,” she said. “I need you to go keep watch. This next part might make a little noise, and if he wakes up I need you to buy me as much time as you can.” Her friend watched her uncertainly, but eventually nodded and tiptoed across the small holding area.

The other prisoners appeared oblivious to their machinations, all of them either sleeping or pretending, most likely too afraid to get mixed up in whatever shenanigans were taking place. Dr. Peach was watching keenly, and stood to join Weiss as she strode over, the pair exchanging a few hushed words before turning to watch the guard.

Yang looked at the bars in front of her. They were spaced far enough for her to pass her arm through with ease, and the two long, horizontal cross-braces offered great leverage points. Stooping down, Yang slipped her dangling right arm under the lower brace and through to the outside of the cage. Reaching over it she awkwardly aligned the opening of the mechanical arm with the end of her biological one. After a few failed attempts she managed to jam her arm home in the socket, gritting her teeth as the connection surged to life. The process of the circuitry settling into harmony with her body had become nearly instantaneous, but it was still jarring.

With one hand on either side of the bars, she rose as far as she could before her shackles caught on the sturdy cross-beam. By leaning back she was able to lever against the corner between the horizontal and vertical bars, and soon found just the right angle such that she could use the full strength of her right arm without putting too much pressure on her left. At first, she was rewarded with nothing more than the low, creaking groan of straining metal, but after a few more seconds the unstoppable might of her arm won out. She broke free with a sudden high-pitched pop that sent her pinwheeling back, fighting to keep her balance in the dark cell.

She reached down and sheered the remaining cuff off of her left hand, then turned to see if the jig was up. Other than the curious stares of the prone figures around her, not much had changed, and Yang blew out a relieved breath. The guard hadn’t even stirred from his slumber, and she didn’t hear anything from beyond the tent flap that indicated she'd alerted those outside.

Still, it was only a matter of time before someone came to check on them, so Yang wasted none in striding over to the gate with its little padlock. She almost wished for a more significant test of strength as she reached through the gate, wedged her hand in the metal loop, and forced the lock open with ease. A bit too much ease. In her eagerness to be free she pushed a little harder than intended and the lock flew away violently, bouncing off the bars as it exploded open with a noticeable clang. The racket cut the sleeping guard off mid-snore as he sat up in alarm.

Yang was through the gate in a flash, covering the distance to the wide-eyed man in a few powerful strides and a single leap, landing with her knees pinning his arms and her left hand clamped down over his mouth. The fear in his eyes stoked something dark inside of her, and she leaned in close to savor it as she pulled back her clenched right fist.

But someone was hissing her name. “Yang!” It was Weiss, staring through the bars with her big blue eyes pleading with her to stand down. “Please,” she added.

Yang breathed out her anger, noticing that for the first time all of the other prisoners were very much awake, watching her, waiting to see what she would do. She looked down at the quaking guard and opened her hand, cuffing him on the temple, just hard enough to leave him dazed. Rope was in abundance, so she grabbed a coil to bind his hands and feet before tearing some strips of cloth from his own uniform to fashion a gag. Satisfied, she dragged him into the back corner of the cage and tied him to the bars for good measure.

Everyone was on their feet now, silently looking at her as though unsure if they should expect salvation or attack from this vibrant new figure, but knowing that whatever she brought it was synonymous with change. Yang looked around at the dirty faces, starving for guidance and thinking she was there to give it. She looked to Weiss for support but received only a shrug and tap on the wrist to remind her that whatever she was going to do, she needed to do it quickly.

“Ok, listen up,” she said, keeping her voice low but not so low she wouldn’t be heard. “You’re getting out of here, but it’s not going to be easy. I’m going to see if I can get you through the fence just behind this tent, then you should all book it into the woods.”

“Aren’t you coming with us?” one girl asked, terrified at the thought of their new savior abandoning them.

Yang shook her head. “I can’t, I need to find my sister first, but then I’ll catch up. Once you’re all clear of here head east. Don’t stay on the road itself, but follow it as best you can. I’m not sure exactly where we are; best guest, we can’t be more than ten or twenty miles from the next town. If I don’t catch up before you get there, find shelter, lay low, get help if you can. Do you think you all can do that?”

The dirty faces turned and looked at each other, and for a moment Yang was prepared to hear them admit that they couldn’t, but before they could voice their doubt Dr. Peach stepped forward. “Yes, we can,” she said, her back straight and voice steady.

Yang jogged out of the cell and retrieved her jacket, throwing it on as she strode back. She reached into an inside pocket and pulled out Blink’s map, hesitating briefly before handing it over.

“This should help,” she said, then leaned down and pulled the pistol from the guard’s holster, flipping it around and offering it grip first. “So will this.”

The doctor, a woman familiar with death but only from an antagonistic perspective, flinched at the sight of the proffered weapon but eventually accepted its dark weight. “Thank you,” she said, looking uneasily at the gun before she tucked it in her waistband.

“Don’t thank me yet,” Yang said. “We still need to get you out of here.”

Weiss collected her pile of knives, slotting each back into its own hidden sheath, while Yang searched through the scattered supplies for anything useful. There were a few bags with food in them and these were divided among the escapees. As they were given tasks and a potential path forward, Yang was happy to see that the motley group was starting to show more spirit, a good sign if they were to have any hope of escape. They double-checked the supplies to ensure they had grabbed everything useful, then Weiss used one of her remaining knives (grumbling about losing her favorite to “that witch Vernal,”) to slit open the back wall of the tent. She poked her head out and peered into the shadows, but whispered that she saw no one walking along that narrow path between her and the fence, so she stepped out into the night with Yang close on her heels.

Yang walked over to the nearest post and reached out, preparing to tear off the top wire before Weiss stayed her hand. “We want them to have a head start, right?” she whispered. “Make a space at the bottom, everyone can crawl out and hopefully no one will notice until they’re long gone.”

Yang nodded at the simple elegance of her plan and crouched down, snapping the bladed wires one by one until she figured there was enough room for someone to crawl under and not get cut. Then she walked back and stuck her head into the prison tent to summon the others. She led them over to the fence, showing them the opening and advising them all to stay low. One by one they passed through, frightened and confused but shepherded along by their new heroes.

Dr. Peach waited to go last, hugging both girls fiercely when it was her turn. “Can I thank you now?” she whispered.

Yang fought down a laugh. “You can thank me by taking care of everyone.”

“I will,” she promised. “Be safe.” Then she crouched down and followed her charges into the night.

Yang turned to Weiss, the light of the moon plenty to reveal her steely determination. Still, she felt she needed to offer her an out. “You might want to go with them, given the whole ransom thing,” she said.

Weiss stepped up to her, rage emanating from her diminutive form, “Are you fucking kidding me right now?”

“I’m just-“

“No, Yang, I’m not running. I’m here to find Ruby, just like you,” she snarled, turning to go. “Are you coming?”

“Lead on,” Yang replied, holding up her hands in surrender.

*** * * * ***

Blake ran. She ran with no destination, no plan, nothing beyond rage and righteous indignation and the overriding need to flee, to get away from the doubt and accusations in that treacherous house. A small, charitable part of her did try to forgive them. They were afraid, alone, and vulnerable. She knew that despite their best efforts they hadn’t heard from RLIC command in weeks, and with leads going cold and tensions between Mistral and Atlas heating up, everyone was on edge. Add the fact that they had seen their fellow agents hunted down by mercenaries not long ago and it was a recipe for paranoia.

But any hint of forgiveness in her heart was drowned out by an all-consuming fury. Not just at them, but at the world in general, and most of all at herself. Her past had come back yet again to tear apart her present. It seemed that no matter what she did, no matter where she went, no matter how she sacrificed or struggled to atone, it was always there. Waiting. It cast a shadow over every word and action, driving away her allies and emboldening her enemies.

Eventually, several levels below the house, her hammering heart and burning lungs forced her to slow her mad dash. She stopped to catch her breath under a quiet shop’s awning, then continued her flight at a brisk walk. For a few strides, she considered simply leaving Mistral. It wasn’t too late to flee to Menagerie, to save herself and leave the humans to their pointless wars. Of course, it wouldn’t just be humans fighting and dying, the White Fang’s involvement guaranteed that. Still, why keep sticking her neck out when it had been made abundantly clear her help wasn’t wanted?

_No._

It was so tempting to run, but Blake refused to let Adam win so easily. She was going to stay until his plans fell around him in ruins, and ensure that he knew it was her who brought about his defeat. So what if she had to do it on her own? She knew what needed to be done, and she didn’t need the others to do it. She just needed to get to Sienna.

It had been years, but the High Leader would surely remember her. Maybe not fondly, but if she could be convinced of Adam’s sedition, she may be willing to form a temporary alliance despite Blake’s desertion. If the plan went poorly…well, best not to think about that. Sienna was not known for her forgiving nature, and that was assuming Blake even made it that far.

Step one: tell Sienna the truth. Step two: don’t die in the process. Blake decided to worry about step three when it was relevant. A rumbling from her stomach reminded her that part of not dying was taking care of her basic bodily requirements, so she looked around for a place to stop. After a handful of levels, her flight had become less direct and more circuitous, so she was still above the middle tier, which meant plenty of cute little cafe’s dotted the street she was on, all of them promising the best version of some common food item or another, all slightly overpriced. Since each was as good as any other she picked a place at random and sat, giving her order to the smiling waiter when he stopped by to greet her. Her eyes scanned the passing crowd tirelessly. The food arrived a short time later and she ate quickly and quietly, never dropping her gaze from the sea of passing faces. More than once she was sure she saw one of her former teammates headed her way, but each time it was just someone out window shopping. Blake paid and moved on, not willing to settle in one place until she was absolutely sure she wasn’t being followed.

Not that she really expected to be followed, except possibly by Sun. Then again, she wasn’t sure she even wanted to see him. He had spoken up for her, defended her even, but he was still part of the team, one of them in a way Blake was only just realizing she never had been. She tried to tell herself that had always been her goal, to work with them but still hold herself apart, and yet she couldn’t deny the sting of their rejection.

She should have known better than to expect anything more from them, from anyone really. While she tried to take comfort in the fact that they hadn’t all ganged up on her immediately, she knew that given time they would all side with Coco. She was their leader. Eventually, her words and presence would outweigh Blake’s silent absence and they would all feel relieved to be rid of the sneaky faunus who might have (probably would have) gotten them all killed eventually.

_What about Sun?_

Blake pushed that thought out of her head, reminding herself that Sun was one of them. It would take him longer, he would argue and bluster and plead but, in time, fall in line just like everyone else. In the end, people need other people, and truth and justice are easily discarded in the name of belonging.

Fortunately, Blake had plenty of practice at being alone. Free from the shackles of responsibility and obligation to others, she would complete her mission on her terms. If that helped her former teammates and the rest of the world, great, but she was no longer tethered to them or their aims. The only thing that mattered was Adam, and how best to make him suffer for everything he’d done.

\--

She finally allowed herself to stop around midnight, taking refuge in yet another hostel and snatching a few hours of sleep before returning to the streets. Her time in bed had been far from restful, but plenty productive: she had a path forward. Sienna was due to arrive that very day, so Blake was going to meet her out at the camp. She had considered reporting for training as usual, but she couldn’t risk facing Sun or a potential ambush from the rest of the team. That meant she had to find her way out there alone, preferably after Sun would be gone, and she happened to have just the thing. Yatsuhashi had shown her how to test the GPS box so she could make sure it was working before leaving it behind. All she had to do now was ping it once to get its location. Easy. There was a risk that Yatsu would be monitoring the signal and notice the activity, but there was nothing she could do about that. She punched in the command on her scroll, figuring she was more likely to sneak past his notice in the early morning while he slept or cooked, and when the response came back she was glad she had. The camp was about twenty miles outside of Mistral, and with dwindling money and no wish to attract attention by stealing something, Blake was looking at a long walk.

As soon as shops began opening she picked up food and water for the road. In no mood to use up her energy on stairs, she walked over to the large central lifts and waited for one heading down. A quarter of an hour later she was at the base of the cliff. She pulled up the map on her scroll with its little red dot indicating her destination and picked the dirt road headed in the right direction. Then she started walking.

She allowed herself to stop around noon. The sun was blazing away merrily overhead and she knew if she didn’t take a break under one of the few trees that ran along the stretch of road she could be looking at trouble. Walking long distances always left her feeling slightly dreamy, but the sun and heat bearing down on her were pushing her a little closer to delirium than she preferred, and that meant it was time for some shade.

A big, strong oak rose from the ground not too far from the road, and she strolled over and plopped herself down at its base, pulling some food and water out of her bag and refueling herself absentmindedly. Not many others were traveling her particular stretch of countryside, just a few rattling trucks bound for the city with their goods. No one was headed her way, so even if she’d been so inclined, hitchhiking wasn’t much of an option.

She knew she should be using the long hours to plan, but she couldn’t seem to wrangle her mind into any sort of order. Each time she pointed it in the direction her feet were carrying her it wandered off, chasing tangents like colorful butterflies. First, it was memories of hikes with her parents back in Menagerie. Then it was the time she had taken a photography class at Shade and they had trekked out into the desert in the grey, predawn light to capture the breathtaking beauty of the dunes at sunrise. That was probably the only time she had really enjoyed living in the wastelands. Then it was the numerous long marches with the White Fang on their way to and from various targets. Those were usually at night, the group tense and silent and alert as they walked. Her only comfort on those long, dangerous trips was the warmth of Adam’s hand as he gave hers a reassuring squeeze. How foolish she’d been to take comfort from him, to follow him so blindly. Blake tried to use the memory to get back to business, but to no avail. She knew she was going to stop him, she knew that started by revealing his plan to Sienna. What else was there to think about?

Through it all floated images of Yang. Even though she hadn’t been there for most of the scenes flashing through Blake’s mind it was so easy to fit her in. Of course she had hiked the hills outside of Kuo Kuana, of course she had been at Shade snapping photos of dune grass in the rising sun. Who else could have ever held her hand when she was headed into danger?

The only memories that her sun-hazed mind didn’t muddle were those from her time in Vale, and as the sweltering afternoon grew long she found herself walking through crystal clear visions full of chilly wind and warm embraces and the delicate dance of two people falling in love. As always, when she remembered that time, she tried and failed to freeze her memory at the point where everything was beautiful and perfect. But as always, her mind raced to where the music had stopped and they had fallen apart like marionettes with their strings cut. Not for the first time, Blake considered that there might be no way to go back to before, to reattach those severed wires, but this time a savage grin took the place of her frown. Maybe that was true, but she could at least settle her score with the man holding the scissors.

\--

It was nearly dark by the time Blake approached the camp. The last handful of miles had been slow going as she had been forced to avoid the road where trucks carrying troops trundled along. The guards had posed no problem for the experienced infiltrator, but moving silently through the forest was a tedious process. It didn’t help that she was exhausted and her legs were wobbly from the endless miles, but she could push her fatigue aside long enough to do what needed to be done. She could because she must.

Soon she was perched in a tree with a good view of her destination: the building that she knew held the audience chamber. She briefly considered trying her ruse from before but promptly cast that idea aside. There was no guarantee she could pull it off again, and even if she did it wouldn’t automatically grant her a private audience with the High Leader. She needed something that gave her a little more clout.

It took her several minutes, but she came to realize that the guards who were barring her passage also held the solution to her problem. The High Leader always kept an honor guard, but oftentimes she would spend hours in meetings or listening to reports, and she didn’t expect a single set of guards to stand vigilantly for so long. At least in Blake’s time, she had usually traveled with at least two full complements that would rotate periodically.

She thought back to her orientation to the camp and recalled that there were locker rooms that had been off-limits to recruits; they were for full members only. No doubt the High Leader’s people would get preferential access to such facilities. It was enough of a plan for the impulsive woman, potential pitfalls be damned. Her mind snapped to attention once she had a concrete goal, casting aside its hazy wanderings like a too-warm blanket. She dropped from the tree, fast as a falling stone but silent as a feather, and flitted through the shadows of the camp. 

The squat building she sought was quiet and empty; apparently, no one was too worried about someone stealing sweaty uniforms. Once inside, Blake was relieved to find that nothing was secured. It seemed the White Fang assumed that everyone within the camp would simply do as they were told, and gear was neatly hung on open cubbies rather than locked away. It was practically begging to be stolen.

But stealing wouldn’t be enough, Blake needed to take someone’s place. The honor guards’ gear was easy to find with its ornate design and rich colors, but if she put some on its owner would blow her cover immediately. Her mind raced as she pawed through each set, looking for one that was roughly her size. Just when she was preparing to give up hope she found one that fit the bill, and unless she was mistaken even looked cut for a woman. Perfect.

She rifled through the garments, deciding that the vibrant red chord that would wrap around the guard’s waist was just the thing, and tucked it in her bag. A bathroom on the far side of the room offered an ideal hiding spot, and she crept over and picked a stall near the door, slipping inside to wait. Minutes passed, Blake doing her best not to cramp up as she crouched on the lid of the toilette to keep her feet from view. She grew excited when she heard voices, but whoever it was quickly came and left. Another false alarm got her hopes up sometime later, but they too moved along without lingering.

The pain in her hips and knees eventually forced her to stand and stretch, and just when she was starting to regain normal motion she heard the door to the room beyond swing open. As silently as she could she eased back onto her perch, listening intently. For a few minutes, they horsed around and talked trash like soldiers do, and eventually one of them called out the time and Blake heard the rustle of clothing and gear as they began to change.

“Alright,” called out a woman’s voice. “Which one of you assholes took my belt?”

Blake’s heart began to pound. The group outside was certainly the next shift of the honor guard, and she was about to find out if her plan would work, or get her killed.

“Oh get off it, no one touched your shit,” a gruff voice replied.

“Someone did, I can’t find my fucking belt!”

“Sounds like your problem, we need to get out there for changing of the guard. Either you’re ready or your not.”

“Fuck!” she shouted. She was silent for a moment save for the sound of her furiously tearing apart the room in her search. “You guys go, I’ll catch up.”

“Cap’s going to have your head for this.”

“Thanks, dip shit, I kind of figured,” she snapped.

Blake listened as the guards filed out, and a few heartbeats after the door shut she slowly stepped down to the tiles and opened the stall. Without making a sound, she opened the door to the locker room and found the lone woman facing away from her, digging through her bag.

In a few quick strides, Blake was on her, applying a chokehold Sun had helped her perfect that left the woman unconscious before she even knew she was under attack. Blake stripped her of her armor and tied her up, careful that the gag she put in place still allowed her to breath. As gently as she could she dragged her back into the bathroom, propping her up in a stall and hoping no one got curious. After wedging the door shut she returned to the changing room and donned the armor, complete with the belt she had liberated. After a moment’s hesitation, she stuffed as many of her belongings as she could into the various pockets hidden throughout the gear, then rolled up her mostly empty bag and shoved it up on a shelf. She would come back for it if she could, but she wasn’t counting on it.

She did one last check in the bathroom mirror to make sure she looked convincing, then she placed the final piece, an ornate mask, on her face. On her way out she grabbed one of the large spears in a rack by the door, then set off into the night. She dug into her memory and tried to mimic how the guards she had seen moved as she hurried over to where she hoped to find Sienna.

“You’re late,” the guard at the door said.

“I know, someone hid my belt,” she replied, lowering her voice to sound like the woman’s had. “I’m here now.” The guard sneered at her but let her pass, knowing it wasn’t his place to decide whether she could come or go. Blake walked past confidently, trying to slow her hammering heart as she crossed the antechamber and entered the main hall.

Sienna was there, seated in the throne that was the focal point of the room and looking as regal as ever. The intervening decade had, if anything, lent her an even more striking presence. Her guards were arrayed around her, and for a bone-chilling moment, Blake wasn’t sure how she would know where she was supposed to be. That problem solved itself a breathe later when one guard, in particular, noticed her entrance and gritted his teeth so hard that Blake was surprised she didn’t see blood trickling through his lips.

She marched over, ignoring his obvious rage and taking his spot as he vacated it. All the while Sienna continued to listen to the man kneeling before her and delivering his report, her eyes flicking in minor annoyance at the unexpected activity but otherwise taking no notice of Blake’s tardiness. She was in, now she just needed to figure out how to speak to the High Leader.

Alone.

Easy, right?

She stifled a sigh and settled in to wait.


	21. Thicker than Water

The first several minutes passed in a sweaty blur. Every fiber of Blake’s being was on high alert to ensure she didn’t miss some cue or order and reveal herself. None came, however, and as people filtered in and out of the room to give reports or seek counsel with the High Leader, she soon discovered the same thing that those around her already knew: guard duty was boring.

Time dragged as Blake stood motionless and erect. Her sore legs took the opportunity to remind her that they hadn’t appreciated the unexpected miles of walking, and soon her back joined in the chorus of aching complaints. After what may have been an hour or an eternity or just a few minutes there came a lull in the stream of supplicants. Blake’s mind raced, was this her moment? The guards would seize her, surely, but if she got her mask off and called Sienna’s name she might be able to deliver her message. Sienna would surely keep her around long enough to question her and get to the truth. After that Blake would just have to hope she could escape.

She reached for her mask, the guard next to her frowning and cocking his head slightly as she did. She paused just on the verge of lifting it when one of Sienna’s assistants entered, and by his simpering tone, Blake was able to place him as the same one who had been groveling to Adam the other day.

“Your grace,” he said, bowing low. “Adam Taurus requests an audience.”

Something flashed through Sienna’s eyes, too fast for Blake to decipher. “Send him in,” the High Leader commanded.

Blake dropped her hand and returned to her rigid stance, watching as the man who still haunted her nightmares strode into the room. The bow he gave as he approached was just respectful enough to pass muster but hardly obsequious. “High Leader,” he said as he raised himself back to his full height.

“Adam,” she replied. The single word seemed to lower the temperature of the room by several degrees, but the one who should have most felt the chill simply smiled.

“Thank you for taking the time to see me.”

“I always have time for one of my most trusted,” she said, the placid tone of her voice ringing hollow beneath her blazing eyes.

“Have I displeased you, High Leader?” Adam asked, dropping some of his feigned ignorance.

“I don’t know, Adam. Have you?”

“All I’ve done is what you’ve asked of me, what you wanted, High Leader.”

Sienna closed her eyes and breathed out a pained sigh. “As you did in Vale?” she asked, opening her eyes and fixing him with a stare.

“Vale was a massive success, a blow against humanity that they won’t soon forget,” Adam declared, puffing his chest with pride.

“A success that may yet cost us everything,” Sienna retorted. “A success that may start a war the likes of which the world hasn’t seen in decades.”

“A war between humans-“

The High Leader brought her fist crashing down on the arm of her throne. “Stop acting like a child, Adam. This is not a game.” Silence filled the hall until she deigned to continue. “Do you really think that when the fighting starts we will be left in peace? Even now Atlas’s troops are mobilizing, and when they’re done crushing Mistral they will turn their sights on us, as they always have. We will be drawn into the war whether we like it or not.”

Adam stepped forward, raising a clenched hand. “Then we will fight.”

“We will die!” Sienna boomed. “Do not mistake me,” she said, her voice dropping to an ominous whisper. “I am no lover of humans, and I would enjoy nothing more than to see General Ironwood’s head on a pike, but I am not interested in seeing our people slaughtered while they fight a war they cannot win.”

Adam shook his head, continuing his approach. “You’re wrong. We can win, and I won’t stand by and watch you squander this opportunity for vengeance against the human scum.”

“Then you won’t stand by me at all,” Sienna said, her voice cracking like a whip. “Guards, take him away until he has had a chance to remember who is High Leader.”

Blake’s heart soared. She wouldn’t even have to talk to Sienna at this rate; Adam had gotten overeager and blown whatever plan he had in place. She was just glad she had been there to see it. Maybe she would even get to be the one to throw him in a cell. She looked around at her comrades, waiting for someone to take the lead in apprehending him and nearly doing so herself. But none of them moved. Blake stared around in confusion until Sienna noticed the lack of response as well.

“I said take him away!” she demanded.

“It’s a pity that it’s come to this,” Adam said, walking calmly up the short stairs to the dais on which her throne sat. “I always did respect you as a leader, Sienna.”

“What is this?” she hissed, looking around at her motionless guards.

“This is the will of the faunus,” Adam announced, his voice ringing out through the room as he approached. “You were there for our people when we needed a leader, a strong leader, but they need me now.”

“If you think I’ll just step aside-“ Sienna began, her voice cutting off in a gasp and her eyes going wide as Adam’s knife appeared in his hand and disappeared in her stomach.

“I know, and I hope you believe me when I say this isn’t personal,” he said into her ear. Before she could respond he pushed the knife in and up, then pulled it out in a single, smooth motion. He held her there, close as a lover, before casting her body aside like so much refuse. Looking up he addressed the room, “To all who ask, Sienna Khan died at the hands of a human assassin. She will be a martyr for our people, her name a rallying cry as we destroy the human oppressors.” A cheer went up amongst the traitorous guards, all but one in the corner. Blake stared, horrified, as her former mentor bled out silently, dying, any hope Blake had of defeating Adam dying with her.

Blake was so stunned that she didn’t realize that she was the only one not cheering. Most people, having just stabbed someone and thrown their corpses aside after years of fighting side by side, might not have noticed. But Adam was a narcissist to the end, and the sight of even one person not praising his glorious rise stood out to him immediately. Though the honor guard mask covered much of her face, her ears and sharp jawline were quite visible, and when Adam turned to glare at the only one not celebrating his glory, he recognized her instantly.

“Seize her!” he screamed, pointing directly at Blake. She hadn’t even chosen a direction to run before the large guard next to her had an iron grip on her arm, and soon several others formed a circle around her, spears leveled. Adam’s fury melted into a sinister laugh as he strolled over, the guards parting seamlessly to let him pass. He flipped the mask off of her face with a lazy flick of a finger, laughing again when she flinched away. “Hello, my darling,” he said, his tone sickeningly sweet.

“Let me go,” she said, pulling uselessly against the grip of the men holding her.

Adam tutted at her. “If I had known you were going to deliver yourself to me, tonight of all nights, I wouldn’t have sent so many people out searching for you.”

“I won’t let you get away with this-“

“But I already have,” he said, waving his hand at Sienna’s bloody corpse. “And you won’t be able to do much from a cell. We have a lot of catching up to do, my love, but I have other things to attend to right now.” Straightening, he addressed the first guard to grab her. “Take her away, lock her up tight.” Looking back at Blake he smiled. “I’ll be sure to come say hello later.”

Blake struggled and hurled insults at Adam as the guard dragged her out of the chamber and into the night. Hoping to escape as his eyes adjusted Blake leaned over and bit him on the arm, hard. He cried out and let go, but as he did another hand clamped down on her wrist. It was one of the guards standing watch at the entrance. “Want me to take her?” he grunted.

“Yeah,” the first guard said, checking his forearm to see if she’d broken the skin. “Crazy bitch bit me.”

“Go get that checked out, I’ll see to her.”

Once again Blake was being dragged. This guard was smaller than the first but his grip was just as strong, and he was pulling her along too quickly for her to do much to break his hold. Before she could think up a way to get free the guard changed direction suddenly and pulled her behind a darkened building, covering her mouth.

“Shh!” he hissed. “It’s me.” When she looked at him in confusion he let go of her mouth and took off his mask.

“Sun?” she cried.

“I said be quiet!”

“What are you doing here?”

“Getting you out, come on,” he said, checking around the corner to see if they had been spotted.

“I didn’t ask for your help,” Blake said miserably.

“Would you rather I put you in a cell and left you?” he asked, smiling as she scowled at him. “Didn’t think so, now let’s go.”

They wasted no time sneaking out of the camp and into the forest, picking their way through the paths as quickly and silently as they could until they heard distant shouts. It seemed that someone had realized what had happened. All pretenses of stealth abandoned, they tore through the woods haphazardly, Blake praying that Sun wasn’t choosing a direction at random.

Several tense minutes later she was relieved to find he hadn’t. Up ahead in a clearing there sat a dark shape, and as soon as they were within a few yards the little ship hummed to life. Blake recognized the airship they’d taken to the fundraiser just as she dove into the open cabin, Sun scrambling in behind her as the automatic door slid shut and the craft jerked into the air. The rapid motion threw Blake to the side, but a hand reached out and steadied her. Blake’s eyes trailed from the long fingers that held her up a graceful arm to find Coco looking down.

Blake jerked back. “What are you doing here?”

Coco ignored her question. “What happened?”

“Sienna’s dead,” Sun reported.

“Damn.”

“Why do you care now?” Blake demanded. “What are you doing here? If you’re still planning on arresting me you should have just left me in the camp.”

“I’m not here to arrest anyone,” Coco said, then looked down and took a steadying breath. “I’m here to make sure my whole team comes back alive.”

“Then you should have just stayed home-”

“That includes you,” she said, her deep brown eyes meeting Blake’s in the dim cabin light. “Are you ok?”

“Am I ok?” Blake asked. “Am I ok? Yeah, I’m totally fine. I just watched Sienna get stabbed to death by the man I was here to stop. The man who is now the new High Leader of the White Fang. Oh, also I blew my cover and he tried to have me thrown in a cell. So yeah, I’m great.”

“Were you and Sienna close?”

Blake crossed her arms. “You still think I’m a traitor, don’t you?”

“No, but I read your file.”

“All of it?” she asked, uncertain of what answer she would prefer.

“All of it,” Coco responded. “After you left and we all calmed down a bit, this guy wouldn’t leave me alone,” she said, nodding her head at Sun, who was largely pretending not to be there but smiled in acknowledgment. “He kept bugging me about getting it all wrong. So I got Yatsu to do some more digging. It took some time but he managed to pull your unredacted file, and I read it. Were you two close?”

Blake looked out the window. “There was a time, once. She was a mentor, taught me a lot. But eventually, I saw how wrong she was about a lot of things. Then I left, deserted, so I’m sure she hated me after that.” Blake sighed. “No, we weren’t close, not for a long time now. But I still didn’t want to see her dead. Worse, I didn’t want to see Adam rise to power.”

“Yeah, that’s less than ideal,” Coco agreed.

Blake scoffed. “That’s an understatement.” After a moment of bitterly drumming her fingers along her arm, she looked back up. “So, Yatsu pulled my file. Did everyone-?”

“No,” Coco cut in. “I read it and then immediately had Yatsu purge it so no one else could. It was surprisingly…personal.”

“Seems to be a problem I have,” Blake muttered.

“It’s a problem we both have.”

“What does that mean?” she asked.

Coco sighed and leaned back in her seat. “It means that I’m about to eat a big ol’ piece of humble pie, and you get to watch. And listen.” When Blake didn’t say anything she went on, “A couple years ago I was given my first big assignment. I was given a small team and tasked with investigating and busting a gang based in the outskirts of Vale. They were involved in drug running, and they had a reputation for being brutal whenever someone tried to go to the authorities. I was supposed to get enough evidence to bring the organization down, quietly. I had the whole thing planned perfectly. Every eventuality accounted for, contingencies for my contingencies, I was all over it. The only problem was we were missing some manpower, so I brought in a contractor. I did my due diligence, or at least I thought I did, and he seemed perfect. When we started pulling ops the guy was a wizard, my handler even said we should recruit him when it was all over.

“You probably see where this is going. When we made our big move on the central complex it was a setup. The contractor was a gang member sent to infiltrate us, and I let him right in. Dozens of men were waiting for us; two of my team members didn’t make it out that night.”

“Coco, I…I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, me too,” she said, looking out the window as they soared over the dark forest, her eyes unfocused as she replayed the worst night of her life, likely not for the first time. Eventually, she returned to the small craft and looked at Blake. “One of those two was the one I can’t let go.”

“I…I didn’t know,” Blake said, so many things about the occasionally harsh woman coming into focus.

“Yeah, well, not many do,” Coco said. “But it only seemed fair to share my story since I’ve read yours.”

“Thanks for that, by the way.”

“For what?”

“Not letting anyone else read it,” Blake said.

Coco nodded, understanding her preference to keep some things to herself. “Look,” she said after a moment. “There’s no apology big enough to make up for how I acted. I didn’t tell you my tale as an excuse, just as an explanation, but here it is: I’m sorry. I truly, royally fucked up, and I take full responsibility. I’m not asking you to forgive me, but I am asking you to come back to the team because we sure as hell need you if we’re going to stop that asshole Adam and keep the world from falling apart.” As she finished to she extended her hand, a resolute look on her face that seemed to expect nothing.

Blake chewed her lip, but eventually reached out and grasped the offered hand. “I’m in,” she said. “And I’ll think about the whole forgiveness thing.”

“I’ll take it,” Coco said.

They rode the rest of the way in silence, each lost in their own thoughts as they circled higher and approached the twinkling lights of the city. After a final steep climb, Carmina brought them over the peaked roof of their house in a graceful arc and landed them gently on the front lawn. The pilot hopped out along with everyone else and sauntered back from the cockpit to look at Blake uncertainly. Finally, she stuck out her hand. “I fucked up too, I should have stood up for you,” she said. “We cool?”

Blake looked at her hand, strongly considering saying no, they weren’t. But then she thought about how hard it would be not to instinctively back someone she cared about and did her best to find a sliver of compassion for the woman. In the end, she took her hand. “Yeah Mina, we’re cool.”

The pilot nodded and released her firm grip, immediately tucking herself under Coco’s arm and looking up at her tenderly. Blake wasn’t sure if she’d heard Coco’s story before or not, but she seemed less surprised than concerned as she offered her comfort.

After they walked a few paces Coco looked back over her shoulder. “Shouldn’t you return that ship?” she asked, not making any move to disentangle herself.

“It’s fine,” Carmina responded with a sly grin. “You can pay the late fee.”

Coco snorted and allowed herself to be led across the lawn, Blake and Sun in tow, to the front door. When they opened it Harkin popped his head out of his room from the first story landing. “You’re back!” he said, pacing out a moment later and looking positively wired. “And you brought Blake!”

“Hey Hark,” Blake said, shaking her head.

“Blake, I’m, we’re all…really sorry,” he said, wringing his hands nervously.

“I know Hark,” she replied wearily. “It’s ok.” 

“What are you so worked up about?” Coco asked, looking up at the information gatherer as he proceeded to bounce from one foot to the other.

“Do you have a minute?” he asked.

“Is it important?”

“Yes,” he said, nodding his head vigorously.

“Duty ever beckons,” Coco drawled, starting to move away and laughing as Carmina refused to leave her side.

While the pair made their way up the stairs the agitated man looked down at Blake. “Actually, quick question: do you really know Weiss Schnee, or was that just a story you told to get us in here?”

Blake jerked her head up to look at him. “Yes,” she said slowly. “I know her. Why?”

“In that case, you’re probably going to want to hear this too,” he said, returning to his room, Coco and Carmina close behind. It took Sun nudging her arm for Blake to collect her thoughts, scattered as they’d become at the unexpected mention of someone from what felt like a past life. Once she had she took off, taking the stairs two at a time to find out what had brought that name to Harkin’s lips.

*** * * * ***

Weiss and Yang crept around the perimeter of the camp, staying well clear of the lights set along the inner pathways to guide the few mercenaries still out and about. They didn’t bother checking the small tents under the assumption those were for the rank and file, not to mention the fact that they weren’t big enough to even fit a single prisoner with a guard. Instead, they focused their attention on the few large structures.

When they reached the first they hesitated, debating in subvocal whispers about what to do. Despite her unease, Weiss finally accepted they had to look inside and, as silently as possible, slit open a section of the back wall close to the base, then peaked through. “It’s pitch black,” she said, pulling her head out.

Yang pulled out her scroll and, before Weiss could stop her, stuck her head and arm inside, turning on the flash. After sweeping the interior she switched off the light and stood back up. “Just crates, some sort of storage.” Weiss bit back her admonition at the reckless act, and they moved on.

They came up empty at the second tent as well, this one a weapon’s cache that they almost raided but thought better of it when a sound from inside alerted them to the presence of a guard. Fortunately, it was one who was shirking his duties, and other than stirring lightly in his sleep he didn’t note their passage.

Finally, they came to the large tent at the center of the camp. There was no question that something important was inside, but the indistinct sound of voices within made it too risky to just open up a wall at random and stick a head inside. That left the front entrance, which was currently flanked by two very alert, and very armed, guards.

“Maybe we should check somewhere else first,” Weiss suggested as they crouched behind the shadowy corner of the large tent.

“No, she’s in there, we just need a way in.”

Weiss wanted to know the source of Yang’s confidence, if for no other reason than to share in it. Instead of commenting to that effect, she asked, “Fine, what’s your plan?”

“Easy, I’ll go around the other way, you draw their attention over here, I knock them out.”

“Sure, how could that possibly go wr-“ Weiss began, but Yang was already halfway around the backside of the tent. Mouthing a string of expletives her friends would no doubt be shocked she even knew, she cast about for a something to create a noise, finally finding a small stone that would suffice.

Presently she saw a hand emerge from shadows on the far side of the guards, giving her a thumbs up. Weiss steadied herself and took aim, launching the stone at the post of a nearby tent and striking it with an unmissable ping. Both guards whipped their heads in her direction, and after a terse, whispered exchange, the one nearest her tentatively walked toward the sudden noise, sighting down his rifle and scanning around as his partner watched his back.

Or meant to, at least. A moment later he was struck almost silently from behind with a fist he never saw but that no-doubt felt an awful lot like it was made of metal. Before he hit the ground a pair of strong arms caught him and dragged him away into the darkness to be deposited somewhere inconspicuous. Unsure if she should expect backup, Weiss waited for her guard to pass by her shadowy alcove and then crept up behind him. In a flash she had a blade pressed firmly to his throat. “Move, or make a sound, and you die,” she hissed, unsure if she could follow through on her threat but praying he didn’t know that. “Do you understand?” He nodded that he did. “Good. Now put your weapon down, slowly.”

One hand released from the trigger guard as he held it up to show his submission, then he began to laboriously move the gun out and away from himself with the other. As he did Weiss tracked it with her eyes, almost missing it when he spun suddenly around, batting her knife hand away and raising his weapon.

Just as he drew a bead on her the muzzle of his gun was wrapped in a fierce grip, the metal complaining as it was torqued upward. He looked down, wide-eyed, and tried to puzzle out what was happening. Before he had time to solve that particular mystery the mismatched partner of the hand on his gun shot up and struck him across the jaw. Weiss stepped forward through her shock, fighting not to grunt as she caught the man’s weight. 

Yang soon relieved her of it, dragging the unfortunate guard away and depositing him behind a nearby crate. “Shall we?” she said as though she hadn’t just knocked out two armed guards in a mercenary camp. She took Weiss’s silence as agreement and casually strode toward the vulnerable entrance, slowing and looking inside before stepping through.

\--

The tent appeared to have multiple rooms, the first of which was some sort of waiting room that currently sat empty save for a buzzing lamp that gave off a sickly pale illumination. Other than the exit, the only path lay forward, and the other side of the cloth door seemed to be where the discussion they'd heard was happening.

Yang crept forward, Weiss clinging to her heels, both of them trying to see through the loose flap without being seen by the speakers on the other side. The voices were coming from a small handful of men and women standing in a half-circle and giving reports, presumably to their leader. As they did they were frequently cut off, either with admonishments or demands for further explanation by the fierce woman in red pacing back and forth beyond them.

Something tugged at Yang, something deep and visceral and so unexpected that she knew before the woman stepped in between two of her lieutenants and spun to face them. “Mom?” she whispered at the face she had only ever seen in decades-old photographs, but which was unmistakable even still. The long hair, so like her own other than its midnight hue, the shape of her ferocious red eyes, the angle of her jaw. She was a bizarro world picture of what Yang would no doubt look like in twenty or so years, assuming she took care of herself as well as this woman obviously had.

Without intending to, Yang had taken a step forward. She leaned in, her body halfway into the room where the woman she had looked for all her life stood yelling at subordinates. All those years, and now, when she was finally searching for someone else, Raven had appeared as if by magic. “Yang n-“ Weiss began, failing to stop her as she stumbled like a sleepwalker into the room.

“Mom,” Yang repeated, louder this time.

Finally, the commander looked up, her red eyes showing first fury at the interruption then a shocked recognition. “Yang…?” she said, a lifetime of emotions, some piteous, some reprehensible, others simply understandable all intertwined in that one uttered syllable.

Before either mother or daughter could speak again a voice came from the entryway. “Ma’am, it seems these two escaped and incapacitated your guards. My apologies for only catching them now.” Yang whipped her head around to see Weiss with her hands in the air, a pistol thrust into the back of her head.

“Vernal,” Raven said, all business. “Stand down. You neglected to tell me my daughter was among our guests.”

“I…your daughter, ma’am?” the woman said, looking around in bewilderment.

“That’s what I said. Now leave us, all of you.”

“But ma’am-“ Vernal started.

“I didn’t ask for your input,” Raven barked, her voice taking on a dangerous edge. “Out. Now.”

The other officers complied immediately. Vernal looked on the verge of defiance, but even she eventually saluted and reluctantly took her leave. For a tense couple of moments, the three women stared at one another, until Raven agitation forced her into motion. She turned and strode toward an odd sort of camp kitchen in the corner. “Tea?” she asked with a false levity.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Yang said. “Tea?”

“Language, young lady,” her mother admonished with a wry smile over her shoulder. Yang crossed her arms and glared at her. Raven blew out a deep breath. “Right,” she said, fussing with her electric kettle for a moment. “Well, I’m going to have some, you and Miss Schnee are welcome to join me, once it’s ready.”

“So you knew that you kidnapped Weiss Schnee but not your own daughter?” Yang accused.

“I’m the commander, I give orders and receive reports. I ordered that the troublemakers who beat the shit out of my informant in Higanbana be captured. I received a report that they were and that one of them was the heiress to the Schnee fortune.”

“Ex-heiress.” Weiss corrected.

Raven glared at her. “Not the point, but thank you for the clarification.” She huffed out a sigh, then looked back at Yang. “None of them knew I had a daughter, so they simply reported that there was a fierce one with a robot arm.” She nodded her head at Yang’s limb before turning to the whistling kettle and pouring three cups of tea. “That seems true enough, and is definitely a story I’d like to hear sometime.”

“In one of our many mother-daughter chats?” Yang snapped.

Raven turned, holding back whatever sharp retort had risen to her lips and waving them over to a small table where she set out the glasses. Reluctant and terribly curious all at once, Yang eventually accepted her offer, Weiss following silently on her heels. “Look,” Raven said, looking up from her steaming cup as she sat. “Both of us seem a bit shocked by the turn of events, and though I’m not normally one to be so lenient on those who cause me as much trouble as you two have, I’m going to make an exception for family.”

“Family?" Yang echoed, looking around wondering if she'd heard correctly. Staring in disbelief she repeated the hollowly ringing word. “Family?”

Her mother narrowed her eyes but went on. “I know you were looking for something. You were tracking the Messengers for some reason, but obviously, we weren’t your true objective. You’ve earned my respect by getting this far and breaking out as you did, so I’ll answer any questions you have.”

“You'll...answer my questions?” Yang mumbled in disbelief, taking in the suddenly real woman before her. The phantom of her mother had haunted her for so long that she couldn’t help but feel rising contempt at her failure to live up to either the greatness or monstrosity Yang had imagined in her absence. This woman was...disappointing. Fierce and strong, true, but with a haughty manner that didn't inspire the awe she clearly thought she did. Still, she was right there, so close after so many years, and that fact alone was enough to create a torrent of emotions that threatened to obliterate all rational thought. Fortunately, a single beacon of focus had carried Yang across the entire continent. Scattered though she was, she wasn’t about to lose sight of it now. “Where’s my sister?” she demanded.

“Your sister?” Raven asked, honestly confused until she was struck by recognition. “Shit,” she muttered. “I thought I was seeing a ghost.”

“So you know where she is.” Yang pressed.

Raven shook her head. “She was here, but she’s gone now. Gods, she looks just like Summer did at that age.”

“Gone where?!”

Raven held up her hands, and Yang settled into an unwilling silence. “We do what we’re hired to do. I was hired to capture some doctors, quietly, so we did. We had to march them out of Shion on foot to avoid drawing attention to ourselves. That plus a few Lien to encourage the mayor to call for their help and then keep quiet after should have been enough. I suppose I didn’t count on my own daughter showing up to track me down.” Raven grinned in an oddly proud sort of way.

Yang was having none of it. “Get to the point.”

Raven scowled but continued. “Two weeks ago my client sent some intermediaries to pick up his real target, a specialist named Oobleck, and some others to assist him. I don’t know what for because I didn’t need to know. Anyway, your…sister, was in the group that was taken. I thought it was a coincidence that she looked like that, thought maybe my eyes were playing tricks on me since I only saw her for a moment when they were taking her away.”

“Did you know that she only volunteered to go because your men shot one of the others?” Yang asked.

Raven shrugged, not quite remorseful. “I heard. Rest assured that the man responsible has been punished.”

“Punished?! He murdered someone!”

“Do you think this is a bloodless job? Look around,” Raven said. “He wasn’t punished for killing, he was punished for disobeying my orders.”

“And what were your orders going to be next? Were you just going to allow the prisoners that weren’t needed to go? Or were you going to kill them too?”

Yang’s question put Raven off balance, and she rose to pace while she sipped at her tea. “No…I…no,” she said.

“Were you going to ransom them like you intended to do with me?” Weiss added.

“No,” the commander said, frowning as if just remembering there was another in the room. “Though you would have fetched a decent payday.”

“Hmph, shows what you know.” Weiss sniffed contemptuously. “My father doesn’t pay ransoms.”

Raven accepted this new information and sat back down. “I’m assuming you two didn’t leave the doctors behind?”

“No,” Yang admitted.

“Well, that’s settled then.”

“What?”

“Truth be told, they were a liability and I needed them gone. The men would never have accepted my decision to just let them go, but killing them seemed needlessly…wasteful,” she said. “And so would spending resources to track them down, so I guess we both get what we want. Thanks for that,” she added, her smile far from kind.

Yang made a noise of disgust, unable to look at the woman who had supposedly birthed her. “Just tell me where they took my sister.”

“I don’t know,” Raven said, continuing before Yang could protest, “I’m telling the truth. I handed the doctors over, only my client knows where they are now.”

“And who’s your client?”

“You know, you haven’t even touched your tea-“

“I need a name.”

“I don’t give out the names of my clients.”

“Not even for family?” Yang asked, sarcasm dripping thickly from her words.

Raven looked down at the tea she was swirling about her cup, lost in some thought that carried her far away. When she returned the conversation she picked up was more related to her memories than the actual words of her daughter. “War is coming, did you know that?”

“What?”

She nodded. “War, real war, kingdom against kingdom. It’s been building for a long time now, since before you were born, and it looks like it’s finally here.”

Yang shook her head. “What does that have to do with-“

“Everything,” Raven said, leaning forward with a slightly wild look in her eyes. “It has everything to do with this, with us. Do you know what your uncle really does for a living?”

Yang’s head spun with the erratic leaps the conversation was taking. “He’s a…consultant. Business stuff,” she said, repeating what she now knew to be a lie.

Her mother let out a hollow laugh. “Is that what you think?” she asked. “Let me set you straight on that: he doesn’t do ‘business stuff’. He’s an agent for an organization that thinks it can maintain peace from the shadows.”

That lined up with what Yang had grown to suspect, not that she would give her mother the satisfaction of admitting it. “Fine, so what? How do you know anyway?”

“I used to work with him.”

Yang's sneer fell away. “What?”

Raven took another sip of her tea, her eyes half-closed as she took a breath so deliberate it was almost meditative. “I was a good little soldier back then, trying to maintain peace out in the world by day and attempting the same back in that tiny little cabin on Patch at night. I don’t know where I got the notion in my head that I could live that life, but I thought I could do it. Thought if I buried the voice screaming at me that I didn’t belong there, that I shouldn’t be cooped up like that, it would go away. But it never did. It got worse when I started to realize we were fighting a losing battle, that war would come no matter how many missions we carried out, no matter how many people were sacrificed for the cause.

“Then I found out I was pregnant. Told myself it would change everything, that I would accept the shining shackles of my life. When I first held you I saw how wrong I was.”

A single tear fell from Yang’s eye as she barked out a pained laugh. “Hated me that much right off the bat, huh?”

“No!” Raven cried, her eyes wide. “It was just the opposite. I felt something for you I had never felt, and that opened my eyes. I wasn’t a good soldier or a good wife, and I certainly wasn’t going to be a good mother. It was all a lie, none of it was who I was, so as soon as I could, I left. I hoped you would have a better life because I did, and when I heard that Summer stepped in and…took my place, I figured I was right. I was saddened when I heard that she died.”

“Don’t you dare talk about my mother,” Yang said, the tears flowing freely now.

Raven looked like she was on the verge of correcting her, but thought better of it. “Look, I know I’m not what you expected to find here, and I’m probably not at all what you wanted me to be, but we’re here now, together. Maybe that’s how it’s supposed to be.”

“What are you saying?”

Raven set down her tea, her eyes alight. “Stay, join me. You’re smart and resourceful, clearly you can fight. There’s a place for you here, and it would give us a second chance to get to know one another.”

Yang looked at the stranger before her. “Are you serious?”

“I know it’s not exactly perfect but-“

“Stop,” Yang said, rising to her feet. “I’m not interested in you or your offer. I’m just here to find Ruby. Either help me or get out of my way.”

Raven stood as well, only just reaching eye level with her daughter. For a tense moment, they stared each other down, then the older woman looked away. “Vernal!” she shouted. “I know you're listening, get in here. Now.”

A moment later the woman walked into the room, looking for threats and visibly relaxing when she saw none. “Ma’am?”

“Give these two their things back and escort them to the exit. They are not to be stopped or pursued, do you understand?” she ordered, her tone cold and aloof.

Vernal glared at the intruders but fished in her pocket, producing Yang’s keys and tossing them over. “The rest of your things are in the saddlebags,” she explained. She tried to ignore Weiss’s icy stare and extended hand, but eventually caved and strode forward to slap the grip of her stiletto into her palm.

Taking the extended silence as dismissal the trio headed for the exit, the last member stopping when she was addressed quietly. “Yang,” Raven said, not meeting her eyes. “The man who hired me is Lou Beringer. He’s based in Mistral and has a tendency to keep things that are important to him close, so you should start your search there.”

“I…thanks,” Yang replied.

“Don’t expect any more favors if our paths cross in the future,” Raven stated, her harsh stare diminished by the sorrow ebbing into her voice.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” her daughter snarked before disappearing into the night.

Had anyone dared to peek into the tent after its owner was left alone, they may have seen something that no one had in years: tears falling from the crimson eyes of the leader of Death’s Messengers. Then again, it’s unlikely that the unfortunate soul who beheld such a thing would have lived long enough to tell the story.


	22. Be Careful What You Wish For

“What’s going on?” Blake demanded as she burst into Hark’s room, Sun close on her heels. Coco and Carmina were perched on the bed and leaning on each other, while Hark himself was seated at the work station he’d set up at the desk in the corner, his chair turned to face his guests.

Coco looked at him when he hesitated. “Get on with it, Hark,” she said. “It’s late.”

“This is important, I promise,” he insisted. “It’s just that it’s all kind of raw and I’m still trying to parse through it-”

“Spit it out.”

“Ivy cracked the journal.”

“What?!” Coco said, sitting upright. “Why isn’t she in here?”

“Because she stayed up for two days straight trying to decipher it, and passed out shortly after,” he explained.

“Fuck, man, what did she learn?”

“I mean there’s so much, it could take months to go through all of it-“

“Hark,” Coco snapped. “We don’t care about the gambling debts of half the city, focus on Oak. What did you learn?”

“I learned to never doubt Ivy again. He definitely has a faunus daughter, and she’s in the White Fang’s care.”

“You mean they kidnapped her?” Blake corrected.

“No,” Hark said, shaking his head vehemently. “Oak had a mistress so off the books that no one in the city knew, and she took the kid and fled from where they were being kept hidden to the one place she thought she could find help: the White Fang. Specifically, Adam Taurus.”

Coco looked up. “Do you know where the mistress is?”

Hark shook his head. “She’s only alluded to vaguely in the journal, but it wouldn’t surprise me if she took off, likely fearing retribution from Oak.”

“That reads.”

“Regardless, Taurus was going to reveal the kid and tank Oak’s career. Beringer got word of it all and stepped in, proposing that they get the kid treated in secret and in exchange demand Oak’s help in starting a war.”

Coco narrowed her eyes. “But why?”

Hark started shuffling papers, but Blake beat him to an explanation. “He’s been smuggling guns for a while now; he probably hopes he can get rich by selling to both sides of a conflict.”

“That’s more than likely it,” Hark agreed, finding the report he was looking for.

“Fair enough,” Coco said, chewing over the flood of new information. “You mentioned the girl getting treated. Treated for what?”

“She has a rare genetic disorder, only found in faunus. I wrote it down somewhere…”

“Trifa’s Syndrome?” Blake offered.

“That’s the one.”

“Wait, I’ve heard of that,” Coco said, a perplexed look on her face. “But hasn’t that basically been cured?”

“Not cured so much as prevented,” Blake said, not waiting for Hark to check his notes. “But it requires genetic screening to ensure that a parent isn’t a carrier.”

“So the mother wasn’t checked?” Coco asked.

“Maybe,” Blake responded. “But what many humans don’t know, or believe, is that they can also be carriers. It’s more likely that Oak never got tested either because he didn’t know or just didn’t care.”

“Hm, that also reads,” Coco said. “So the kid wasn’t kidnapped. That’s good, I guess. But what can Beringer or the White Fang do for her?”

“That’s where shit gets weird,” Hark said. “You’re going to have to bear with me while I work through these reports, some of these literally came in tonight.” When Coco gestured for him to continue he shuffled the papers on his desk and looked at the one on top. “This report is from a few weeks ago; a group of medical volunteers showed up in Shion and then up and disappeared one night.

“I first got it shortly before everything went to shit, so I didn’t think much of it. They were said to be on the move pretty frequently, so maybe they just got a call from another town that needed them, who knows? Then I get this report. Weiss Schnee is rolling across Anima, knocking down doors and looking for those doctors.”

“Hark, I’m assuming there’s a point in all of this,” Coco said, stifling a yawn. Blake, on the other hand, was wide awake, hanging on every word.

“There is,” he said. “By the time they got to Higanbana they weren’t asking about doctors anymore, they were asking about Death’s Messengers.”

“Really?” Coco said at the same time as Blake leaned in and said, “They?”

“Yeah, so my thinking is that they found something indicating that the Messengers took the doctors, which would make sense with what we were able to get from Beringer’s notes and the reports I had of their forces out that way. The doctors must somehow be part of all of this, but it’s not written in any of the notebooks.”

“What do you mean they?!” Blake cried.

“Oh, right!” Hark said, flipping through his reports and pulling out another one. “Schnee isn’t alone, she brought along some muscle on this search. Some woman is hauling her around on a big motorcycle. No name, but from the report she’s quite a fighter.”

Blake’s head spun and she staggered over to sit on the bed, hard. “Wait,” she said, clearing her mind. “No, it can’t be, she would be missing an arm…”

“I don’t know about that,” he said, confused by her reaction. “But she beat the pulp out of four guys in Higanbana; I heard it was pretty ugly. My source was peaking through the bar window, said the big blonde fought like a demon.”

Blake shook her head, she didn’t know how it was possible but there was no way it was just a coincidence. “Probably more like a dragon,” she muttered.

“What?” Hark asked.

“Nothing,” Blake said, trying frantically to put the pieces together. “You said they were looking for doctors. Were they looking for one in particular?”

“Yeah,” he said, narrowing her eyes at the guess that obviously wasn’t random.

“A young woman, still in medical school?”

He cocked his head. “Yes.”

“Holy shit,” Blake said, mostly to herself. “Holy shit. It’s her!”

“Who?” Hark and Coco asked at the same time.

“Yang,” she answered, her eyes glazed and far away.

Sun and Coco exchanged a look, while Hark just waited for someone to explain. “Who?” he asked when no one did.

“Not important,” Blake said, snapping back to the present. “They’re in Higanbana?”

“No,” he replied. “That’s where they were last seen, but after their dust-up at the bar, they disappeared, as in vanished. No one saw them leave town, so my guess is the Messengers tracked them down and took them.”

“Where?” Blake demanded, shooting to her feet.

“As far as I can tell, they have a camp somewhere between Higanbana and Oniyuri. It’s the only place that would make sense given where they’ve been active and assuming that they were able to get a message and show up in Higanbana in the same night.”

“Any chance Oak’s daughter is there too?” Coco asked.

“I don’t think so,” Hark said. “I can’t imagine a camp in the middle of nowhere would have any of the medical equipment needed for someone in her condition. More likely they were just the middlemen, grabbed the doctors then passed them off to Beringer and the Fang.”

“Guess we can’t have everything,” she said, reaching out and grabbing Blake’s wrist as the woman made to leave. “Where are you going?”

“To find the camp,” Blake said, pulling impatiently at her grip. “Please, I have to.”

“I know,” Coco said, not letting go. “But not tonight.”

“Wait, what?”

“How are you planning on getting there?” she asked, her voice maddeningly calm.

“I was…”

“Going to run out into the night and figure it out?” Coco supplied. Blake’s eyes darted around the room, but she couldn’t deny it, so she didn’t. “You need a ship, and that means you need a pilot.”

“That’s me,” Carmina supplied, her head drooped on Coco’s shoulder, and her words thick with exhaustion.

“Right,” Coco said, patting her head. “and she needs to sleep. Not to mention the fact that you can’t see anything in the middle of the night without using spotlights of some sort, even with your vision, and that’s a great way to get shot down.”

“I don’t need a ship, I can get there on my own,” Blake insisted.

“Sure, but what’s your plan once you do get there? Swoop in and carry them home on your back? What if they’re being held captive?”

“I’ll break them out,” Blake answered.

“Uh-huh, and what if they have the doctors with them? You going to walk them all home?”

“I-“

Coco released her. “Wait until dawn. Then Mina will take you in one of our escape ships and go look for your girl. If you see the doctors on the way, you can pick them up too, bring them all back here.”

“If they’re being held captive I’m going in,” Blake insisted.

“Yeah, but you won’t be alone,” Sun announced, finally speaking up.

“Sun, no-“

“I’m not asking,” he said.

Blake looked to Coco for support, but the leader just shrugged and smiled. “I’ve never been able to tell him what to do. Sounds like you’ve got backup whether you want it or not.”

After stewing for a moment Blake slumped. She couldn’t deny that Coco’s plan was better than hers, which hadn’t developed further than ‘jump out the nearest window and run until she saw Yang.’ “Fine,” she said. “We leave at dawn.”

Carmina climbed slowly to her feet and let out an exaggerated yawn. “Dawn,” she mumbled. “Wonderful.”

*** * * * ***

The walk through the camp was tense and silent, Vernal leading the way to where she had parked Yang’s bike before escorting them to the gate. The guards there looked surprised but took her order to let them pass without comment, simply shrugging and returning to their posts.

“Well, ladies, it’s been a pleasure,” Vernal said as they mounted up.

Weiss shot her a dirty look while Yang just muttered, “It’s been something alright.” Then she fired up the engine and pulled onto the rough path.

They had to keep to a snail’s pace on the way out, limited to the circle of illumination from the motorcycle’s headlight, which only gave them a few dozen feet of visibility on the treacherous road. More than once they were forced to dismount and push the bike around an impassable section. It was nearly dawn by the time they finally reached the main road.

They stopped there to regroup, and Yang was relieved to find their food and water had been untouched by their captors. She took a swig from the canteen before passing it to Weiss. They had made most of the initial trek in silence beyond what was necessary, and Yang was partly hoping to continue on that way, despite feeling like there was a tempest of emotions swirling through her chest.

Weiss, however, was not interested in letting things lie. “I…are you ok?” she ventured.

“I’m fine,” Yang said, shaking her head and looking off to the brightening east.

“Really? After all of that?” Weiss asked, incredulity rolling off every syllable. “You’re fine?”

“What do you want to me to say?!” Yang shot back, the dam she had been constructing around her thoughts bursting. “That I’m all fucked up now because I met my mom and she’s a piece of shit merc who kills people that inconvenience her? That she left me basically for the reason I’d always suspected but somehow worse? Fuck!”

“I mean-“

“Because I’m not, ok?” Yang said, not even hearing her friend’s attempt at breaking in. “I’m not, at least not any more than I was. My mom still left me because she sucks, and now I’ve seen her in person and witnessed the source of all of my most charming personality traits,” she spat, trying desperately to convince herself. “Nothing’s changed except now we’re going to Mistral and looking for some fuckwit named Lou Beringer, whoever the hell that is. That’s it.”

“That’s it?”

“Yeah, that’s it. Now come on, we should be able to get to Oniyuri in a few hours. We can rest there and then make Mistral in a couple days,” Yang said, preparing to remount.

“What about the doctors?”

She paused. “What about them?”

“You’re just going to leave them wandering in the woods?”

Yang didn’t meet her eyes. “They have food and those mercenary assholes are going to leave them alone. They’ll be fine.”

“You sound like _her_ ,” Weiss said, the words landing like a slap to the face.

“Take that back,” Yang growled.

“No.”

“What do you want to do?” she said, taking two quick strides so they were face to face, her superior height letting her stare down menacingly at her defiant friend. “Just forget about Ruby then? Let her get killed while we play hero in the woods?”

“I didn’t say that, but I love you both too much to let you turn into a monster in her name.”

Yang felt on the verge of making just such a transformation, but whether it was exhaustion or some kernel of truth sneaking through into the back of her mind, she found herself backing off. “Fine,” she said through gritted teeth. “They should be just off the road, so we’ll keep an eye out for them while we ride, and if we get to Oniyuri without seeing them we’ll go back for them if we can’t find someone trustworthy to do it for us. Is that good enough?”

“Yes,” Weiss said quietly, stepping up and resting her hand on her seething friend’s shoulder. “Thank you.”

“Ruby’s still my top priority.”

“Of course.”

“Can we go?”

“Whenever you’re ready.”

Even with the smoother path and rising sun, it was slow going. Yang’s roiling anger wasn’t enough to entirely counteract the fact that she hadn’t slept properly in days, and after the third stop that was ostensibly for food and water but was really a much-needed rest, Weiss offered to watch over her while she took a quick nap. Yang declined, shaking herself awake and promising that she was ok. After that, they were able to get almost an hour of steady riding behind them before Weiss shouted frantically for Yang to stop and kill the motor. When she had, she realized there was another engine nearby, somewhere on the empty road, and eventually, it occurred to her to look up.

Above them hung one of the odd, boat-like airships of Mistral. It was midway through a lazy circle, but after they stopped it descended to the road in front of them, making a gentle landing and kicking up a cloud of dust. “What do we do?” Weiss asked.

“Honestly?” Yang said, yawning expansively. “I’m too tired to run. Maybe they kill us or maybe we find out if that fancy immunity of yours works. Either way, I plan on getting some rest.” Weiss let go of any attempt at a response to the lackadaisical attitude toward their potential demise as a large panel on the side of the ship slid open, revealing a crowd of people, one of which was waving excitedly to them. “Dr. Peach?” Yang called, dismounting and squinting at the figure as she climbed down and ran over to meet them.

“You made it out!” she exclaimed, her face falling immediately. “But you didn’t find Miss Rose?”

Yang shook her head and Weiss clarified. “She was already gone, we’re heading to Mistral to try to find her. Where did this ship come from?”

“Oh! They found us walking through the woods an hour or so ago, and came down to investigate. Wonderful people, offered to give us a ride.”

“What were they even doing out here?” Yang asked.

“Looking for you, as it so happens. They’ve been circling and trying to find a way to scope out the mercenary camp without being seen and saw you down on the road.”

Weiss held up her hand. “Wait, did you say they were looking for us?”

“Yang!”

That voice, laden with relief and joy and a warmth that she knew so well, washed over Yang, warming her to her core and rocking her slightly as she looked up to see Blake sprinting toward her. For a moment she forgot the way things stood, and all she could think of was what it would be like to feel her lips again, to hold her close and breathe her in. Then, as was the case every time she woke from a dream, she remembered, and all of her pain and rage and devastation played across her face, stopping the running woman so suddenly that she nearly stumbled as she came to a halt, her face falling.

“I…” Blake said, all of her words evaporating under Yang’s furious gaze. “Hi,” she said, completely at a loss.

“What are you doing here?” Yang demanded, ignoring the way that Weiss gingerly stepped around her to lead a very confused Dr. Peach back to the ship.

“I thought you were in trouble, I came to help-“

“As you can see, I don’t need your help, I’m fine.”

“That’s not what I-“

“Now if you don’t mind, I need to get to Mistral, so if you could get that monstrosity out of my way-“

“We can get you there faster,” Blake rushed out, letting out a sigh when it seemed she finally had Yang’s attention. “Please, just come with us, we can get you to Mistral in a few hours.”

“I…fine, but only because-“

“You’re looking for Ruby, I know.”

Yang glared at her. “How do you know that?”

“I know a lot of things, and I’ll explain all of them if you’ll just come with me, come with us. Please,” Blake pleaded.

Yang glowered at her for a few heartbeats, before nodding her unwilling agreement. “Fine, do you have a place for Bumblebee?”

“There’s a cargo hold in the back-“

“Good, then let’s go.”

Yang brushed past the floundering woman and called into the ship for the hold to be opened, pushing the bike up the ramp before hopping up into the main cabin. The crowded group within, ecstatic to see the woman who freed them, quickly parted and made room for her on one of the few seats. Rather than demur, as she may have at another time, she took it, folding herself up and looking out the window while the hatch slid shut and the ship took off, pretending not to notice the way Blake stared back at her before she disappeared into the cockpit. Weiss wisely gave her space, leaving her to her brooding. In the end, she couldn’t deny her exhaustion, and before the ship was above the trees she had succumbed to a weighty sleep.

*** * * * ***

**Earlier that day.**

True to her word, Carmina was up with the sun. Blake waited for her in the entryway, having slept not at all. She had been sorely tempted to wake the stumbling pilot sooner, but Sun had talked her out of it. She looked over at him, surprised he was up at all after hearing his alarm go off no fewer than four times, but there he was. She couldn’t help noticing the distinct _I told you so_ written in his smirk as he waved a thermos to lure Carmina down to them. The pilot lurched the rest of the way, moaning and stretching her arms out until she was close enough to swipe the container from his hands. She stopped, closing her eyes as she spun the cap off. Her nose dipped into the opening as she inhaled deeply, smiling her sleepy appreciation at the strong, earthy steam wafting into her nostrils. She had specifically instructed them to brew coffee that could wake the dead, and as she took a sip she grimaced and nodded, they had apparently done as they were told.

“Alright,” she said, pulling out her aviators and dropping them over her slightly more lively eyes. “Let’s do this.”

All three piled out of the house, walking over to the little craft that she was going to use to ferry them all down to the larger one waiting below. According to the pilot, their ship wasn’t far from where she needed to drop off their rental anyway, so two birds with one stone and all that. A short time later they were opening up the wide door to the anonymous hanger where she had stashed the large, boat-like airship. After running through a quick, preflight check they eased into the air and drifted out through the hangar door. They waited for a few seconds while Sun shut and locked it behind them then hopped up to the deck. The instant his feet touched down Blake called to Carmina that they were ready, and she keyed the hatch shut as she slowly maneuvered the ship up into the sky.

The craft wasn’t quick to turn or accelerate, but it reached a respectable clip given the space to do so. Blake watched as the forest blurred along a few hundred feet below while they sped away from the rising sun. Hark had given them a map that he’d marked with his guesses at potential locations for the camp, but they were relatively vague, so the rest was up to their eyes and the ship’s sensors. Blake was ready to get out and comb every inch of Anima by hand if that’s what it took. Sun, thankfully, caught the hint that she was in no mood to talk, so he spent most of his time up in the copilot’s chair chatting with Carmina. 

For the first few hours, there was little else to do but watch the world go by. None of the locations Hark had suggested were east of Oniyuri, so until they passed that settlement there was nothing much to see. Try as she might, Blake couldn’t stop running through possible scenarios for what her meeting with Yang would be like. One moment she was convinced they would see each other and it would be like nothing had happened, the next she was certain it would be a disaster. Over and over and round and round she played their meeting out in her head, slowly driving herself mad as the exciting and terrifying moment approached.

After what felt like an eternity, Carmina called back to let her know that they were about to pass over Oniyuri. Blake eagerly craned her neck, but the long prow of the ship blocked her view until they were directly over the village. They slowed as they passed over, and she got a clear view of the neat rows of houses arranged on stone streets. It was a small town, but obviously prosperous.

Then they were over forest again and Carmina slowed them further still, descending until the trees looked perilously close, but her hand was sure as she guided them slowly along the only road that traversed the wilderness. Occasionally they spiraled loosely off the road and around one of the areas that might harbor a camp, but each time they came up empty. After the fourth such tangent Blake’s heart was beginning to beat erratically in her chest. What if they were wrong? What if the mercenaries were somewhere else? What if they hadn’t even taken Weiss and Yang? What if they had already killed them…?

“Do you see that?” Sun called back, startling Blake out of her panic.

“No, what do you see?”

“Hold on,” he said. “You should see them out the starboard window…now.”

Right on his mark, she saw them: a small cluster of people struggling through the rough terrain just beyond sight of the road. Almost like they were trying to stay hidden.

“See?” Sun asked, joining Blake.

“Yeah,” she said, pointing out the window.

“Think they’re mercs?”

“No,” she said. “They don’t look organized, and they’re not wearing uniforms.”

“Think it’s the missing doctors?” he asked.

“Only one way to find out,” she said. “Mina!”

“Roger that!”

A few minutes later they set down in a clearing that was dead ahead of the wayward hikers. Blake and Sun hopped out, hoping that they would be less intimidating that way. Several minutes later they were still waiting. Blake closed her eyes, focusing her sharp hearing on the surrounding forest. These weren’t trained killers, they were scared doctors, and after several seconds of listening to insects sing merrily to one another she heard it: someone had shifted their weight and snapped a dry stick.

“Hello!” Blake called, holding up her empty hands and nudging Sun to mimic her. “We know you’re out there, we’re here to help.”

A long, hesitant moment passed. Then a single woman walked into the clearing. She had a pistol in her hand, but it was intentionally pointed at the ground. “And how do we know you aren’t just trying to trick us?”

“We’re friends of Ruby Rose,” Blake said.

The woman tucked the gun in the waistband of her pants, looking at Blake closely as she crossed the field to get closer. She hadn’t yet signaled the rest to follow, but the beginnings of a smile were on her face. “Knowing her name isn’t exactly proof.”

“I know,” Blake agreed. “But it’s all I have. Please, we can take you back to Mistral, but first we need to find someone else.”

“Who?” the woman asked.

“Yang Xiao Long and Weiss Schnee.”

“What do you want with them?”

“To make sure they’re safe, that’s all,” Blake said, not even trying to mask her concern.

The woman watched her closely for a moment, then her face split with a smile. “Well, why didn’t you say so?” she said. “Those two just saved our lives, got us out of that awful camp where we were being held.”

“Can you show us where it was?” Blake asked.

“Of course!” the woman said. “Hold on.” Turning back to the tree line she called for the rest of her cohort to follow, and soon the shambling bunch made their way over to the ship. Though some gave the hold a doubtful look, they all climbed in eventually. It was a bit of a tight fit, but after the difficult miles they had covered they were all more than willing to squeeze in. Once they were all aboard the leader of the group turned to Blake. “I’m Dr. Peach. Pleased to meet you, friend of Ruby.”

\--

They crept east, carefully following Dr. Peach’s directions and doing their best to avoid flying directly over the camp until they knew what defenses might be waiting. Blake was glued to the window, scanning every inch of the ground below. The doctor had related the tale of how Yang and Weiss had busted them out, and she fervently hoped that they had found Ruby and made their own escape.

It was Carmina who spotted the cloud of dirt tearing down the road, and at Blake’s insistence she made straight for it. Even in the midst of the swirling dust, there was no mistaking the flowing blonde hair and brown leather, especially with the shock of white close behind. It was her. It was really her.

Eventually, the riders looked up and spotted the ship that was coasting over them, and once they’d pulled to a stop Carmina landed in the road ahead, opening the hatch once again. Dr. Peach was first out, rushing over to greet the women who’d saved her. Blake fought to squeeze through the crowd from the cockpit to the door, all of her fears and anticipation blanked out by the simple, undeniable, electric fact of Yang’s presence.

Some part of her noted the oddly colored arm where there should have been none, another noted with jealousy how comfortably Weiss clung by her side, but most of her mind was lost to the pure joy of seeing Yang’s face. Blake called her name, childlike in her glee as she sprinted to close the gap between them. At first, Yang’s face matched her own, filled as it was with wonder and surprise. Then several other emotions raced across it, leaving something dark and bitter and heartbreaking that stopped Blake in her tracks.

She knew they exchanged words, but whatever was said was completely lost on her. All she could hear was crushing rejection mixed with well-earned disdain pouring out of the lips of a woman she loved more than life itself. They all ended up back on the ship, but for the life of her, she couldn’t remember how.


	23. Welcome to Mistral

The flight back was cramped but quiet. Most of the escaped prisoners followed Yang’s lead and curled up wherever they could to sleep. Weiss was as exhausted as everyone else, but the wild events of the past couple days were replaying in her mind on a chaotic loop that left no room for rest. After watching over her lightly snoring friend for a while, she tiptoed daintily through the mass of huddled passengers over to the window and Dr. Peach.

“Miss Schnee,” the doctor said softly, smiling down at her. “Can’t sleep either?”

“No,” she said, blowing air out through her nose in place of a laugh. “I don’t know how Yang can.”

“Everyone responds to stress differently,” Dr. Peach said, looking around. “It’s not unusual for people to hit some critical level and just shut down.” Looking back at Weiss she lowered her voice further and asked, “What happened after we left?”

Weiss shook her head. “That’s not really my story to tell, but suffice it to say that Ruby’s not in that camp.”

The doctor looked like she was about to press for more, but let it go with a nod, staring out through the window at the distant horizon. “I feared as much,” she said finally. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Weiss said, reaching up and placing a hand on her shoulder. “I’m just glad you and your colleagues are ok. Yang and I will find Ruby and the others.”

Dr. Peach smiled at her. “You are a remarkable young woman, Miss Schnee, and if I’m honest, not at all what I expected. I am so glad that I had the opportunity to meet you, though I do wish it had been under better circumstances.”

“That makes two of us,” Weiss agreed, patting the woman gently on the shoulder and turning to go.

It took some doing, but she managed to reach the narrow passage that connected the passenger cabin with the cockpit and found Blake leaning miserably against the bulkhead just behind a man and woman seated at the controls. All three were lost in silent thought and failed to notice her approach, so Weiss cleared her throat gently.

Blake’s head whipped around. “Weiss!” she said, turning to face her. “Are you ok?”

Weiss nodded. “I am,” she said, then added, “We are. Thanks to you and…”

“Oh,” Blake realized, pointing out each of her companions. “Sun and Carmina.”

“Thank you, all of you.”

“Just doing our job,” Sun said with a winning smile.

Weiss cocked her head. “And what is your job, exactly?”

“Uh,” Sun said, looking around. “That’s kind of-“

“Complicated,” Blake filled in. “We’ll tell you when we get somewhere…quieter.”

Weiss narrowed her eyes but accepted the answer for the time being. “How did you find us?”

Blake smiled. “You’re Weiss Schnee and Yang is… well you’ve seen her. You two haven’t exactly been subtle during your tear across the continent. Word made it back to us that you might be in trouble, so we came out to find you.”

“Thank you,” Weiss replied. “Yang might not seem overly thrilled, but we do appreciate it.” She chewed her lip for a moment, then added, “Blake, can I have a word?”

Blake looked around. “I mean there isn’t much in the way of privacy on this ship, but sure.”

“This will do fine,” Weiss said as Sun turned around and studiously looked out the window. “I just wanted to apologize.”

“Apologize? For what?”

“For the way I treated you before you…left,” she said, fighting to keep her gaze steady despite her guilt.

“Weiss, you don’t have to-“

“But I do,” she said, her voice firm. “I never should have blamed you for what that awful man did.”

“You were right though,” Blake said, the terrible weight of memory visibly pulling her down. “I dragged her into that mess, it was my fault.”

“No,” Weiss insisted. “It wasn’t. You were trying to do the right thing and Yang wanted to help you, to keep you safe, because that’s what you do when you love someone. It is awful that she got hurt, but it was not your fault. And I am so, so sorry for lashing out at you.”

“Weiss,” Blake responded, looking more than a little surprised. “It’s ok-“

Weiss lunged forward and ensnared her in an embrace, pressing her close until she recovered from her shock and returned the gesture. They lingered there, holding each other and mourning the loss of a simpler time. When they parted both wiped their faces, neither remarking on the necessity of the action.

“I owe you an apology as well,” Blake said when she could speak again.

“For what?”

“For running out like I did, I never should have left like that.”

Weiss considered this. “You didn’t just run, though, did you?”

Blake’s eyes widened slightly, then she shook her head. “No.”

“I knew it,” Weiss remarked, pieces of a long-unsolved puzzle falling into place. “Yang never so much as had an interview with the police, yet she could have easily faced charges for what she did. Honestly, I could have as well. You cut a deal, didn’t you?”

“I almost forgot how frighteningly smart you are,” Blake said with a small laugh. “When did you figure this out?”

“Pretty soon after you left,” Weiss said with a smug grin. “Though truth be told, my theory was only confirmed when you showed up in the middle of nowhere with an airship and oddly accurate knowledge of where to find us. Must be some deal.”

“It has its perks,” Blake said, her eyes flicking toward the back of the ship. “I…take it Yang still thinks I just left?”

Weiss sighed. “I’m not sure what Yang thinks; she won’t talk about you, at least not to me,” she said with a sad shrug. “That said, while I don’t think you owe me an apology for leaving, I do think you owe one to Yang.”

Blake looked away for a moment. “I know. Given what I know about her past, that was about the worst thing I could have done.”

“Yes, it was,” Weiss agreed, not pulling her punches. “And to be honest, your arrival today was shockingly bad timing.”

“What do you mean?”

Weiss chewed her lip for a moment but decided to proceed. “We just met Yang’s mom.”

Blake’s eyes flew open. “What?!” Weiss shushed her, looking over her shoulder to see if anyone had been disturbed, then related the events of the past day in hushed tones. When she was done Blake just looked at her. “Fuck,” was all she could manage.

“That is a reasonable summary, yes,” Weiss said.

“Do you…do you think she’ll even talk to me?” Blake asked, her shoulders slumping.

“Yes, I do.”

“How can you be so sure?”

Weiss put a comforting hand on her arm. “Because she loves you.”

“She loved me, past tense.” Weiss’s heart ached at the way Blake seemed to collapse in on herself. “I’m not sure she still does.”

“She does.”

They stood in silence for a moment. Weiss wished there was some way she could comfort her, some way to explain everything she’d seen over the past weeks that convinced her of Yang’s feelings, but she knew there wasn’t. Instead, she watched as Blake looked down at her hands, flexing and opening her nimble fingers. Then her eyes flew open.

“Oh! I meant to ask,” she said.

“About her arm?” Weiss filled in.

“Yeah, is it…?”

“She finished her design.” Weiss beamed. “It works wonderfully.”

Blake’s face shone with pride as a single tear fought its way from her eye. She reached up and wiped it away, but her smile didn’t falter. “I knew she could do it.”

“Hey, uh, Blake?” the pilot, Carmina, called over her shoulder. “Sorry to interrupt, but we’re back in range of the tower. Mind if I check in with Coco?”

Blake looked surprised that she was being asked for permission. Weiss watched her shake herself briefly, and when she responded her voice had taken on a new air of authority. “Good call, Mina,” she said. “Tell her to meet us at the hangar. We need to get these doctors somewhere safe.”

“On it, boss,” the pilot called with only a hint of irony as she switched open her comms channel.

\--

Coco watched as the ship glided into the hangar, and she reminded herself again to try to look relaxed. Then again, flanked as she was, she was well aware that the effect was a lot like a pride of lions welcoming a skittish herd of gazelle into their den. Still, she offered her most comforting smile when the ship came to a rest and the hatch pulled aside to reveal the huddled doctors. “Welcome, all of you. I'm glad you're here and safe.” Coco said, not getting much in the way of reaction beyond the wide and staring eyes. She cleared her throat, searching for one set in particular. “Dr. Peach?” she asked.

The woman in question stepped down slowly to the hangar floor. “That’s me.”

“It’s nice to meet you. I’m Coco, and these are my associates Jay and Aqua,” she said, indicating the pair waiting silently beside her. “Before we get ahead of ourselves, are there any of your people who need immediate medical care?” When the doctor shook her head Coco smiled. “Good, then my friends here will help get them situated. We have food and water for everyone.”

“Thank you,” Dr. Peach said, stepping forward to shake Coco’s outstretched hand. “We really appreciate it. But if you don’t mind me asking, who, exactly, are you?”

“We’re here to help,” Coco said. “That’s all I can tell you. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” the doctor said, shrugging. “I guess I won’t look a gift horse in the mouth.”

“That would be better for all of us. Thank you.”

“So what now?”

Coco maintained her smile; damn, but her cheeks were aching. She was reminded why customer service jobs never worked for her. Still, couldn’t hurt to be nice given what the poor woman had gone through. “First, if you don’t mind, I have a couple of questions.”

“Not at all.”

“My pilot reported that some of your cohort are missing, is that so?”

“Yes.”

“I’m very sorry,” she said, meaning it. “I want you to know that I intend to find them and return them to you safely.”

“I’m not trying to be ungrateful, but may I ask why?” the doctor pressed.

Coco shook her head. “Let’s just say our interests align. Now if you please, could you give me the names, physical descriptions, and areas of specialty of all of those missing?”

“Areas of specialty…?” Dr. Peach said, her eyes narrowing. “You’re a mystery, girl. But sure, I’ll give you your list.”

The doctor spoke and Coco took notes on her scroll, asking a few clarifying questions from time to time to make sure she had everything. While they conferred Jay and Aqua helped the nervous people out of the ship, handing out snacks and generally doing their best to comfort the frightened group with assistance from Sun and Blake once the ship had cleared enough for them to jump down.

Her questions exhausted, Coco thanked Dr. Peach and gave her leave to join her people. She turned back to the ship just in time to see a woman with famously white hair appear at the hatch and hop down, landing like a ballerina or a figure skater might. “Weiss Schnee?” she said as she walked over, offering her hand and impressed with the strong grip that met hers.

“And you are?” Weiss asked in musical tones.

 _Gods_ , Coco thought, _she_ is _beautiful_.

“A big idiot who can’t tell when her own tongue is hanging out of her mouth,” came a voice from the ship. Carmina had apparently finished her post-flight check and was climbing down to join them. She offered a wink that softened the blow of her cutting remark then turned to take a lap around the ship and do a final inspection.

“Coco,” she said, clearing her throat and collecting herself. “My name is Coco.” In the next breath another woman, this one with flowing, blonde hair and curves for days, stepped out of the ship. Her landing was just as smooth as Weiss's had been but otherwise could not have been more different. Her grace was more like a tiger’s. It was liquid power and coiled violence ready to spring at a moment’s notice. Add to that the package it came in, and Coco practically had to hoist her jaw off the ground. _Brothers, that girl should come with a warning label_. It wasn’t hard to see why Blake was so hung up on her. “You must be Yang,” she said, once her thoughts settled back into a trustworthy track.

The newcomer looked her up and down, sizing her up as she rolled out her shoulders, like a fighter entering the ring. “That’s me.”

“I hear you’re looking for your sister.”

Yang’s lilac eyes snapped up like a predator locking on to its next meal. “Do you know where she is?” she demanded.

“Not exactly-“

“Of course,” Yang scoffed. “Come on Weiss, let’s go.”

“Hold up,” Coco said. “You didn’t let me finish.” Yang crossed her arms but waited, so she went on, “We have leads on a handful of possible locations, and we’re working to narrow it down. Rather than you going around breaking skulls all over Mistral and drawing attention to yourselves, I think it would be best if you joined us.”

“Joined you in what?” Yang challenged.

“We can explain more back at the house. If you don’t like what you hear then you’re welcome to go out and do things your way,” Coco said, hoping that it wouldn’t come to that. The last thing she needed was a wildcard on the board right now, and based on what she’d heard, this pair was more than capable of stirring up some trouble.

“Fine,” Yang said after chewing it over. “We'll grab our stuff.” As she and Weiss walked toward the cargo door she looked back. “Mind if I stash my bike here for now?”

“By all means,” Coco replied. Blake arrived in their wake, her nervous glances at the retreating figures far from subtle. “Not exactly a warm reunion?” Coco asked the pouting faunus.

Blake straightened up, her face working its way toward neutral. “What makes you say that?”

Coco rolled her eyes. “Nothing at all. Any trouble?” she asked, changing the subject.

“No, but we do have some new information.”

“I got some of it, definitely interesting. We’ll get everyone together and discuss it back at the house.”

“What are we going to do with them?” Blake asked, indicating the gaggle of doctors currently laying waste to the pile of food that had been set out a table in the corner.

“Come with me,” Coco said, striding over toward where Dr. Peach was standing. “And find out.”

When she saw them approach the doctor finished swallowing a mouthful of water. “Coco,” she said, noticeably more friendly. Feeding hungry people usually had that effect. “Thank you for the provisions, your hospitality is most appreciated.”

“Of course, doctor.”

“Did you need to speak to me?” the woman asked, screwing the top back on the bottle in her hand.

“We need to get all of you somewhere safe,” Coco said.

“Do you think we’re still in danger?” Dr. Peach asked, dropping her voice so as not to alarm those around her.

“Not at the moment, no,” Coco assured her. “But there are members of the group that kidnapped you in Mistral who may wish you harm, and I have reason to believe that things in the city may get…heated. Soon.” She was trying to dance around her prediction of war, as it would only lead to questions she couldn’t answer. She cut to the chase. “I think it would be best for you all to go to the Vale consulate. You will be safe there, and they can arrange for transport back to the kingdom.”

“That’s brilliant,” the doctor said. “We will head out as soon as we retrieve our missing comrades.”

Coco shook her head. “No, you’ll go now. I swear to you that we will find your people, but we can’t do that if we’re also protecting the rest of you. Please, the best thing you can do for them is to go.”

“Perhaps someone at the Vale consulate could-“

“You’re welcome to try,” Coco offered. “But honestly, given Vale’s troubles and Mistral’s willingness to break the Vytal treaty, I wouldn’t hold my breath.”

Dr. Peach pressed her lips together into a white line. She obviously wanted to argue with the younger woman in front of her, Coco could see it in her eyes, but the confusing new situation in which she found herself overruled that instinct, thankfully. “Fine,” she relented. “I can see that you’re right. I will leave them in your hopefully capable hands.”

“Thank you,” Coco said, giving a slight bow of gratitude. “I promise that I won’t let you down.”

“I’m counting on you,” the doctor replied. Taking a deep breath she looked around at her charges. “We’ll head for the consulate straight away.”

“Not alone,” Coco said, catching her eye. “Jay and Aqua will escort you.”

Dr. Peach reached out and clasped Coco’s hand in both of hers. “Thank you, for everything. I will never forget this, young lady.”

Coco smiled back at her. “It might be best if you did, especially if anyone asks you how you got here.”

The doctor looked at her curiously but nodded. “I…think I understand.”

“Good. Be safe.”

“You as well.”

Dr. Peach walked among her group, gently coaxing them all back to their feet and explaining where they were going. Coco joined her when they looked ready to move, addressing the bedraggled bunch and trying to impress upon them the necessity for discretion. Then she called over Jay to lead them out, and a moment later Aqua to bring up the rear.

Once they were out the door, Coco turned the remainder of her team, along with their newest additions. “Alright,” she announced. “We’re going to head back up, but I don’t want us traveling in a big obvious pack. I’ll take our guests, you three find your own way home.”

“Sounds good, boss,” Sun said with a sloppy salute.

“Try not to lose your way,” Carmina quipped, making it clear that she wasn’t talking about cardinal directions. With a wink she waved the other two to follow, dragging Blake along when she stood frozen, her eyes flicking back longingly at the woman this had all been about. The cold look she received in return was more than enough to get her moving, and she turned and fled, following the others out into the late afternoon sun.

After she’d allowed them a sufficient head start, Coco looked at Yang and Weiss. “Got all your stuff?” she asked. When they nodded she turned toward the door. “Great. Follow me.” Out in the sunny street, she added, “And welcome to Mistral.”


	24. So Close, and Yet

Blake’s thoughts tumbled and swirled as she followed dumbly behind Sun and Carmina, flickering constantly back and forth between her elation at finding Yang and her crushing despair at how awful their reunion had been. She had always known that there was a very real possibility it would go that way, but the stony reality had been far worse than she could have imagined. On the other hand, Yang was there, on her way to the same place that Blake’s dragging feet were currently carrying her. She was so close...

Blake shook her head. It was too much to process, not that she’d really had time to do so anyway. The minute she’d stepped out of the ship she was reminded of everything that Yang’s arrival had wiped from her mind. _Right_ , she thought, looking at Jay and Aqua’s averted gazes, _that_.

While Coco pulled Dr. Peach aside, Jay sidled up to Blake. “Hey,” he said, visibly fighting not to stare safely at his boots. “I’m sorry, about before.”

Blake left him hanging uncomfortably for a time, but she couldn’t deny his sincerity. “I know.”

“It won’t happen again,” he assured her.

Something about his words had had the opposite of their intended effect. Blake spun to face him, leaning in close and trying to contain the anger that he didn’t fully deserve; just mostly. “See that it doesn’t,” she whispered.

“I was just following-“

“I know,” she interjected. “Just following orders. I’ve heard it before. You get one pass, and that was it. Understood?”

Jay nodded, snapping his head up when Coco called him over to lead the group to the consulate.

“I’m sorry too,” Aqua said after he’d fallen in.

But Blake just sighed. “I don’t have room in my heart right now to be angry with you. Besides, I saw that quick draw of yours.”

The lanky woman shook her head. “You’re part of the team, I don’t believe in turning on one of my own. Not like that.”

“I appreciate it,” Blake said. “Thank you.” Aqua shrugged and offered her a solid pat on the shoulder before turning and bringing up the rear of the departing crowd.

None of it had magically fixed what had happened, but Blake was pleasantly surprised, especially with Jay. Still, the unexpected exchange only added to the swirling confusion that was making it impossible for her to focus as they made their way back to the house.

Blake’s group arrived first, and Yatsu came thudding down the stairs to greet them. “Blake,” he said, looking relieved. “I was so glad to hear you came back. I’m really s-“

“Stop,” Blake replied, waving him off. “It’s fine. I’ve heard my share of apologies today.”

Yatsuhashi hesitated, obviously feeling as though more was required to make amends, but he set that aside. “Coco told us you left to find someone this morning, then we heard Carmina’s report that you did, and some missing doctors too. Was everyone ok?”

Blake looked away. The cold greeting out on the hot, dusty road still hurt. Sun saw her discomfort and jumped in. “We did,” he said. “And they are, at least the ones we found. Some of the doctors had been taken away, we think to the same place where Oak’s daughter is being held.”

Yatsu nodded. “That makes sense. Hark filled us in on the situation. He’s been spending the day narrowing down possibilities. We should go up and get him up to speed.”

“You guys go ahead,” Carmina said, a yawn filling her mouth. “I’m going back to bed. Don’t wake me unless…well, just don’t.”

“Thanks, Mina,” Blake said, trying to focus on her gratitude over her devastation. “I really appreciate your help with this.”

The pilot nodded as she slowly climbed the stairs to her room, the rest of the group following close behind but splitting off to go to Harkin’s. The door was open so Yatsu knocked lightly on the frame, not wanting to barge in on the silent and focused man as he scoured his reports. At the sound of the light thuds, his head rose and he blinked his eyes, a slow smile forming on his lips. “You’re back,” he said. “I was relieved when Coco relayed Mina’s message. Sounds like the lead worked out?”

“It did,” Blake said. “Thanks, Hark.”

“Of course,” he said. “What about the doctors?” Sun filled him in on the missing group and their theory as to where they were. Hark nodded along. “That would make sense. They wouldn’t need all of them, just a few with the right knowledge. You didn’t happen to catch the specialties of those who were taken, did you?” When Blake and Sun shook their heads guiltily he laughed. “No worries, Coco will have asked, we’ll just wait for her to get here. I’m assuming she’s on escort duty?”

“Yeah…” Blake replied, her mind going blank before she could give a proper reply.

Hark gave her a probing look as she shrunk in on herself, then glanced over at Sun, who grimaced and looked away. “I see,” the information gatherer said. “Well, I can’t wait to meet them.”

“Right,” Blake said. “I’m uh, I’m going to go wait for them.”

She practically fled from the room, and rather than head down toward the exit she turned upward. She heard Sun thudding along behind her and redoubled her pace as she raced up to the library.

He found her curled up on a chair in the corner, looking at the worn floorboards like they held some vital clue. “Hey,” he said after watching her for a moment. “You ok?”

Blake looked up, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “Of course not,” she said. “What the fuck kind of question is that?”

“A dumb one,” he admitted, walking over to stand in front of her. “I couldn’t hear what you said to her out on the road, but I saw it, and I heard what Weiss said. Sounds like Yang is pretty upset.”

“That might be the biggest understatement I’ve ever heard,” Blake groaned, dropping her forehead onto her knees. “She hates me.”

“She doesn’t hate you-“

“She does! She hates me, and she has every right to hate me. I just…I thought if I did what I had to and made it back to her that everything would be ok, you know? Instead, I completely fucked up and she’s here anyway and everything is terrible!”

“Whoa, whoa, take it easy,” Sun said, crouching down and placing his arm over her hunched shoulders. “First of all, sure, shit is kind of bad right now, but it’s not your fault. We’re going to stop Adam and the White Fang and everything else, you’ll see.”

“How do you-?“

“I just know, trust me,” he insisted, not allowing her to regain momentum. “And yeah, Yang is mad at you. Some of that anger is even justified, but she doesn’t hate you,” he said. “Try to look at this as an opportunity. I know this isn’t how you imagined everything going down, but she’s here, now. Talk to her, tell her the things you told me. She’ll forgive you.”

“What if she doesn’t?”

“Would you rather not try?” Sun asked. Blake’s head slowly rose and then shook side to side. “Good,” he said. “Let’s go down, they should be getting here soon.”

Blake drew a slow breath and let it out in a sigh. “Ok,” she said. “Yeah.”

\--

“I heard you were quite an engineer,” Coco said as they wound their way up what was billed as the last set of stairs. “That arm of yours is a serious piece of hardware. You make it?”

Yang nodded, her eyes scanning the beautiful vista past the outer railing without really seeing anything. Even the woman leading them was merely a blur, though some part of her had acknowledged that she was quite attractive when they first met. Regardless, she simply couldn’t seem to absorb anything after the day she had. She tried to tell herself it was exhaustion, but she knew that wasn’t it. After several steps, she remembered that she was in the middle of a conversation. “I had some help, but it’s my design,” she said, holding out the mechanical wonder and flexing the fingers.

Coco whistled her appreciation. “A fighter and a tinkerer? That’s quite a combo.”

“Who says I’m a fighter?” Yang asked.

Coco snorted. “Everything about you, from the way you walk to the way you tuck your chin when you turn your head toward a sudden noise,” she said, running her eyes slowly up and down Yang’s frame. “Not to mention your build. Mainly though, I’ve heard stories of your exploits.”

“Oh yeah?” Yang challenged. “Has Blake become a big talker all of a sudden?”

“No,” Coco laughed. “She hasn’t. But we have our sources.”

“We?” Weiss asked, eager to find out who they were dealing with.

Coco nodded. “I imagine you have questions, but we can’t talk about it here. I’ll explain back at the house.” They completed their walk in silence, Yang and Weiss both looking up in surprise at the large house that awaited them at the end of the path. Coco turned back to them with a smirk. “Expecting something a little more modest?”

“I’m not sure what I expected,” Weiss admitted. “But it wasn’t this.”

“Well, I hope you like it. We technically have you to thank for our comfortable accommodations.”

“Me?” Weiss asked.

“Come on,” Coco said, opening the large front door. “We have some catching up to do.”

Yang’s eyes swung as wide as the door when she saw Blake waiting on the other side. As it had before, the sight emptied her mind of any semblance of thought, only for a wave of warring emotions to come rushing in to fill the vacant space. The first thing that jumped out to her once she was able to notice anything beyond the familiar face framed in oddly short hair was the sight of fingers peeking up over her shoulder. Tracing the origin of the digits brought her eyes to the sandy-haired man standing next to Blake, his arm draped comfortably about her. Yang narrowed her eyes at him, not at all reassured when he jerked his arm away and waved awkwardly.

“I didn’t get to introduce myself earlier,” he said. “I’m Sun.”

“I bet you are,” Yang said, all but growling.

Weiss shook her head and looked at Coco. “Where can we go to talk?”

“The living room is over here,” she replied rather quickly. “Sun, why don’t you go get the others? May as well handle some intros while we’re at it.”

He turned to retreat, then paused. “Should I wake Carmina?”

“No,” Coco said. “Let her sleep, they can meet her later.”

“You got it, boss,” he replied, scurrying up the stairs.

Coco led the way into the living room, diligently ignoring Blake as she frantically tried to figure out where to sit. Weiss and Yang sat comfortably on a couch together, and Coco leaned on the arm of the chair opposite. Watching with visible exasperation as Blake flitted around nervously, Coco finally spoke up. “It was a long flight Blake, why don’t you grab some drinks for these two, maybe something for yourself?”

“Right, I…right,” she responded, vanishing from the room in a streak of panic.

The sound of footsteps on the stairs announced the arrival of the rest of the crew. Introductions were made as Harkin, Ivy, and Yatsu entered. Inspired to comport herself politely by a not-so-subtle elbow to the ribs from Weiss, Yang stood to greet them. Hark obviously noted the odd feel of her hand as she shook it, but said nothing, while Ivy didn’t seem to be one for shaking hands at all. Yatsu stopped when he closed his massive hand around hers and looked at her arm appreciatively. “We need to have a chat about that,” he said with a childlike twinkle in his eyes. Yang smiled despite herself, never one to be able to deny the excitement of a fellow tech nerd, and nodded as he removed his hand if not his eyes from her grip.

“So this is most of the crew,” Coco said as everyone settled. “Carmina is upstairs sleeping, she was the pilot who brought you all back. Jay and Aqua were at the hangar; they’re escorting the doctors to the Vale consulate now so they can get safe transport home. Obviously, you know Blake,” she said as the faunus woman returned with an armload of various bottles.

“We have water, tea, soda…I’m not sure what this is…” she said, looking through her burden hurriedly.

“Water is fine,” Weiss said, taking one each for her and Yang, who accepted hers silently. “Thank you.”

“Sure, yeah,” Blake said, awkwardly fumbling the remaining bottles until Coco gently guided her to a chair and indicated she should sit down.

“Right,” the leader of the group said. “Now that introductions are out of the way, let’s start with who we are. Or more accurately, who we used to be.”

Weiss looked at her. “Well?”

“We’re all agents of an organization known as Relic,” she said, or at least that’s how it sounded to Yang. “Heard of us?”

Weiss nodded slowly, a distant look of memory on her face. Yang shook her head. “No.”

“The Remnant League of Inter-kingdom Cooperation, quite a mouthful, so we go by RLIC, R-L-I-C,” she explained. “It’s not widely advertised, but we’re an organization focused on maintaining peace within and between the kingdoms.”

“Wait,” Yang said, sitting forward. “Do you work with Qrow Branwen?”

“How do you know that name?” Coco hedged.

“He’s my uncle.”

Blake looked down as the eyes of her team all turned toward her. “Yes, he’s an agent of RLIC,” she said quietly to Yang.

Yang glared at her. “You work with him?!”

“I…did. Yes,” she admitted.

“Did?”

Coco looked like she had several follow-up questions, but offered the one that seemed most relevant. “What made you suspect he was one of us?”

“What does Blake mean that she ‘did’ work with him?” Yang demanded.

“I’ll answer your question if you answer mine,” Coco offered.

“Fine,” Yang said, crossing her arms and throwing herself back into the couch. “He’s the reason I’m here, he sent some guy in a suit to deliver a letter telling me that my sister had gone missing. I had always thought he was a consultant or whatever, but the letter sounded like it was written by a spy. Then, back at the mercenary camp, my…mom, his sister, said some things about him working for some organization. It just all kind of fits.”

Coco blinked slowly, then shook her head. “Let’s put a pin in the part about your mom,” she said. “You’re telling me that Qrow sent you a letter asking you to track down your sister?”

“Yeah, said that he wanted to handle it but he wasn’t sure he’d be able to.”

“He must have sent that shortly before the treaty was broken,” she said, mostly to herself. “Hark, I want you to find out if he knew anything else. And to answer your question,” she continued, turning back to Yang. “I suspect the reason he said he couldn’t help is the same reason he’s not here: when the Vytal Treaty was broken the RLIC agents in Mistral were exposed and hunted, we’re the only ones left.”

Yang’s eyes went wide. “Are you saying Qrow’s dead?”

“No!” Blake interjected. “He’s not. I saw him when things started falling apart. He was…ok,” she said, wincing.

Yang saw through her lie immediately. “The fuck did that mean?”

“He was wounded, alright? But not mortally, he said he was fine before he left.”

“Oh, great, well as long as he said he was fine before you left him to bleed out somewhere, I suppose there’s no reason to worry.”

“Yang,” Coco boomed, interrupting the building argument. “I know you’re upset, but Qrow is one of the best. I’m sure he’s ok. Knowing him, he’s probably just laying low until things blow over. In the meantime, we should focus on getting to your sister, as that will help further both of our goals.”

“And what is your goal, exactly?” Weiss pressed.

Coco looked at her. “We’re trying to avoid global war.”

“Admirable, but why are the missing doctors so important?”

“It sounds like you knew they were taken to Mistral, do you know who took them?” Coco asked.

Weiss answered when Yang nodded that she could. “Lou Beringer was the name we were given.”

“That seals it then,” Coco said. “The White Fang, either under orders of or in partnership with Beringer, is harboring a faunus girl with a rare condition, Trifa’s Syndrome. It’s so rare, in fact, that there are only three doctors left in all of Remnant known to treat advanced cases, one of which is Dr. Oobleck. According to Dr. Peach, he was one of the physicians separated from the group before you arrived, and we believe that he and the others were taken to a secure facility to treat the girl.”

“Why is she so important?” Weiss asked.

“She’s the illegitimate daughter of one of the members of the Mistral Council; specifically one known for his unsavory views of faunus, which sadly makes him popular with a specific block of voters. We believe that in exchange for her being treated in secret the councilman voted to break the treaty and is agitating for war.”

“So what are you going to do?” Yang asked. “Bust in and kidnap a sick kid and then let her die?”

“No, obviously not,” Coco retorted. Despite her insistence, the worried looks of her team made Yang wonder. Coco was having none of it, however, and simply rolled her eyes. “Guys, we’re not playing with an innocent life.” Turning back to Weiss and Yang she explained, “Until last night we were operating under the mistaken belief that she was a hostage, but the situation has…evolved. We’ll need a new plan, that much is clear, but for now, the primary objective remains the same: find the kid and the doctors. Once we do, we’ll re-evaluate.”

“Sounds like your problem,” Yang said. “I’m just here for Ruby.”

“We’re talking about potential war here,” Coco said.

Yang shrugged, her eyes hard. “I’ll save the world if it means saving my sister, but let’s be clear on my priorities.”

Coco mulled that over but withheld whatever argument she had been constructing. “I understand,” she said. “Can I at least ask for your help until you’ve retrieved her?”

Part of Yang wanted to say no, but a twinge of conscience and an insistent look from Weiss told her she was being needlessly stubborn. “Yeah, we’ll work with you until then.”

“Excellent,” Coco said. “Welcome aboard.”

“What can we do to help?” Weiss asked.

Coco waved her off. “For now, get some rest. I hear you had a hell of a trip. After that, there will be plenty to do, I promise.”

“Rest sounds wonderful,” Weiss said, climbing slowly to her feet and stretching expansively.

“Thought it might,” Coco said. “We’re down to one empty room, but since you’re our guests a couple of us could double up.”

“If we do that I’m not sharing,” Ivy announced. “If anyone does it should either be you and Carmina or Blake and Sun. You know, because of the sex.”

\--

There was a long beat of silence that hung awkwardly in the air. “Ivy!“ Coco moaned, cradling her head in her hands.

Blake, meanwhile, had gone furiously red and began stammering out a denial under the furious look of her former lover. After she struggled impotently for a few seconds, Yang offered her a cruel grin. “That’s ok,” she said breezily. “Weiss and I have gotten a lot closer on this trip, we don’t mind sharing.”

With that she stomped out of the room, scooping up her bag and looking back expectantly for a guide. Coco glanced at the still flustered Blake and the utterly confused Ivy and got up to lead the fuming woman up the stairs. Yatsu and Hark similarly beat a hasty retreat, while Ivy stood and looked at Blake, her hands a blur of agitation. “I…that was the wrong thing to say.”

“I…” Blake said, sighing deeply. “It’s not your fault, Ivy. It was just a misunderstanding.”

“I’m sorry if I hurt anyone’s feelings,” she said. “I’m still really tired. I refused to sleep until I decoded the books. I hoped you’d come back if I did.”

“You did that for me?” Blake said, touched despite the despair that was still rolling over her in waves. Ivy nodded. “Thank you. That really means a lot to me.”

The codebreaker smiled and left, pleased that her work had paid off. Blake watched her go with a ghost of a smile, then pivoted to face the icy glare she'd been ignoring for several seconds. She and Weiss faced each other like rival gunslingers while Sun edged backward, eager not to get caught in the crossfire. He looked back and forth between them, obviously scrambling for some way to diffuse the situation until Blake spoke up. “Sun, I think it would be best for you to go,” she said, her eyes still locked on Weiss.

“I…yeah. I think that’s a good idea,” he agreed, wasting no time in retreating.

“So, you and Yang?” Blake accused when they were alone.

“So, you and Sun?” Weiss countered, mocking her tone.

Blake looked away first. She knew it was a defeat, but the shame she felt under that unwavering stare was too great. “It’s not like that,” she mumbled.

“Then what is it like, Blake?”

“I don’t have to explain myself to you.”

Weiss stepped into Blake’s space, staring up at her and somehow making her feel like a child being lectured by an angry parent. “No, you don’t. But you do need to explain yourself to Yang.”

“It’s not like that…it was a misunderstanding,” Blake said, still struggling to meet her accuser's eyes.

“Fine, then there’s no problem,” Weiss said, stepping back but maintaining her fierce glare.

“What about you two?” Blake asked miserably.

“I don’t have to explain myself to you.” It almost looked like Weiss was going to leave it at that, spitting Blake’s own words back in her face before she walked out, but at the last instant, she relented. “Don’t be stupid,” she said. “You know why Yang and I would never…cross that line.”

Blake hung her head. Ruby. Of course. “I know, I just-“

“You just nothing,” Weiss interjected, her anger clearly far from spent. “Kindly remove your head from your ass before you speak to either of us again. I think that would be best for all parties involved.” Weiss spun gracefully and stormed out, leaving Blake very much alone with her fear and guilt.

\--

Weiss stood outside the foreboding door to which she'd been directed. She felt the rigid stillness that came with anxiety and years of training settle over her body, took a breath and forced her crystalline arm into motion to rap gently on the orderly grain of the wooden planks before her. _Mahogany_ , she mused.

After a long pause, she heard a muffled, “Yeah?”

“It’s me,” she replied.

“Come on in, it’s your room too.”

With another deep breath, in through the nose, out through the mouth, Weiss pushed the door in and pirouetted around it, shutting it gently from the other side. She turned to take in the well-appointed room as well as Yang, levered up on her arms into a seated position on the plush bed, her eyes more than a little red. “We’ve certainly shared worse,” Weiss remarked.

“Sorry about…sorry. I should have asked before-“

“Before throwing a tantrum and using me as a weapon to make Blake jealous?”

Yang pulled back slightly as the blow landed. “I’m sorry,” she said again, hanging her head.

“Yes, you are,” Weiss said, holding back most of her anger. Her friend was already hurting, no need to pile on, but she had a point to make. “And you’re not going to use me like that again.”

“I won’t, I promise.”

Weiss sighed and glided over to settle beside her friend on the plush bed. “Yang, talk to me.”

“About what?” she asked, looking up in confusion.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Weiss said, looking around like she was searching for topics. “Maybe about how your long-lost mother kidnapped us and then offered you a job as a mercenary. Or about the fact that hours after we left that insanity the woman you call out for in the night appeared literally from the sky to whisk you away. Or the weather. It was kind of hot today.”

“It was a little warm,” Yang replied, offering a weak smile at her own anemic joke.

“Yang.”

“I know, I know. But what do you want me to say?”

“Anything,” Weiss said. “Just don’t pretend you’re ok.”

“I’m fine-“

“No, you’re not-“

“I have to be!” Yang snapped. “I have to be,” she said again, once she’d taken a calming breath. “For Ruby. I’m here for Ruby, and until we find her I need to stay focused on that. Everything else is a distraction.”

“The whole selfless protector thing is admirable, it is,” Weiss said. “But eventually you need to let other people help you. It’s not weak to ask for help.”

“I never said it was.”

“Then why-?“

“Because I’m not strong enough,” Yang said, her voice nearly a whisper.

“You’re…what?”

Yang’s eyes fell. “Letting other people in, letting them support me, it sounds nice in theory,” she said. “But it’s so much worse when they leave. If I keep them at arm’s length it’s sad, sure, but if I let them in they become a part of me, and when they inevitably leave it feels like being torn apart. I’m not sure there’s enough of me left to be able to survive that again.”

Weiss was stunned by the tragic certainty of the confession. “Do you think I’m going to do that? Leave you?”

Yang looked away. “No, of course not-“

“But that’s what you just said.”

After a tortured minute Yang swallowed and looked at her. “I don’t think you’ll do it to hurt me. It may not even be sudden or intentional. But yes, I think eventually you’ll leave. Something will take you away; either your career or whatever or maybe…Ruby,” she said, a single tear streaking down her cheek. “You’ll have your life to live and we’ll part ways and promise to see each other and even mean it at the time, but you’ll be gone.”

“Yang,” Weiss said, her heart breaking at the certainty in her friend’s voice. “Is that really what you think is going to happen?” Yang shrugged, then nodded, and a horrible realization settled deep in the pit of Weiss’s stomach. “Is that what you think will happen with everyone?”

“I mean eventually…yeah.”

“What about Ruby?”

“For the longest time, I would have said no,” Yang said, rubbing the back of her artificial hand with her fleshy one, as though working out a smudge only she could see. “But when she left for this trip I realized that once she sees that she doesn’t need me anymore, she’ll go too.”

Weiss reached out for her. “You’re worth more than the things you can do for others-“

“Am I?” Yang asked, looking up suddenly, freezing Weiss in place. “Am I? Really? Because we’re sitting under the same roof as the woman who said…” Yang faltered, then struggled on, “Who said that she loved me, and then vanished once I was no longer needed in her fucking crusade against the White Fang. Fuck, my own mother ditched me after I served my purpose as proof positive that she hated her life. So tell me again how I’m worth more. Tell me about the time someone kept me around when I had nothing to offer them. Tell me you came back for me and not for Ruby.”

Weiss had been preparing a solid rebuttal throughout the entire rant, but the final point obliterated it before she could even begin her delivery. It wasn’t entirely true, but it was close enough that it needed to be addressed. “I was planning on coming back regardless, you know,” she said quietly. “But you were so mad at me, and I felt so guilty that I didn’t think you wanted me around, so I was waiting for the right time.”

“You came running fast enough when you heard Ruby was in trouble.”

“Yes, I did,” Weiss said, her spine straightening. “Because I knew you were going to run off into danger alone unless I followed you.”

“Still-“

“Stop,” she interrupted, her voice cracking like a whip. “It’s your turn to listen.” She was fighting to keep her breath even, using every ounce of training she’d received as a singer to control her lungs while her pounding heart demanded oxygen. “You know how I feel about Ruby. We don’t need to discuss that, and I won’t deny it. But that does not negate how I feel about you. I love you like a sister, Yang, like family, and not like the shitty examples of family that you and I both have. I love you the way Tai loves you, the way Ruby loves you, the way I love Winter. I would do anything for you, and I came here because of that. Yes, I also came for Ruby, but I did not come _only_ for her.” Weiss reached out hesitantly and placed a hand on Yang’s cheek, catching her tears and covering the burning crimson skin there. She waited for Yang to meet her gaze. “I know you have good reasons for your fears,” she said. “But please forgive me my own. It’s hard for me not to retreat when those closest to me are mad, as failing to do so as a child often had…dire consequences.”

Yang knew full well she meant more than yelling, or even her father’s constant emotional abuse, and sagged as the words found their way through her pain to her heart. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled.

“So am I,” Weiss said. “I should have come back sooner, I should have remembered that you aren’t my father. But I also want you to remember that I’m not your mother. I want you in my life, and I plan on keeping you around for the long haul.”

Yang looked up at her. In the space of a heartbeat, the intimidating fighter who was ready to tear apart an entire continent in pursuit of her sister’s captors fell away, and she gazed at Weiss with the vulnerable eyes of a child who just wanted to be held and told everything would be ok. “You promise?” she asked.

“I promise,” Weiss replied. The two fell into a hug, holding each other like the family they were and trying to heal the wounds left by the biological relatives who had fallen short. When they finally parted, Yang looked more like herself, and it almost stopped Weiss from making her final point, but she wasn’t one to leave a job unfinished. “You know,” she said. “Blake also isn’t your mother.”

“I mean no, that would be super awkward-“

“I’m serious.”

Yang looked around, the beginnings of a smile at her sad attempt at a joke falling from her lips. “Close enough,” she said with a shrug. “She hung around longer, I guess, but took off when shit got hard.”

“Is that really what you think happened?”

Yang's eyes hardened. “Is it not?”

“Well, you hacked military weapons and destroyed government property, yet didn’t go to jail,” Weiss said, rising from the bed. “You’re smart, you do the math. I’m going to go get some coffee.”

“Isn’t it kind of late for coffee?” Yang asked, deliberately not addressing her actual point.

Weiss shrugged and slipped out the door, shutting it behind herself. As she did the sound of another door closing drew her attention to the far side of the stairs. She watched and waited for a moment, then decided it was her imagination. She shrugged again and turned to descend the stairs toward where she assumed the kitchen was.

All the while Blake remained motionless behindfo her door, eyes closed and heart aching.

\--

Yang spent several minutes pacing the large room and waiting for Weiss to return. Eventually, she decided she couldn’t hide forever, and warily cracked the door. A furtive glance showed that the coast was clear, so she threw it wide and walked out, glancing briefly at the smaller staircase leading up before turning down toward the lower levels. As she clomped down the stairs she listened, eventually hearing a pair of voices coming from a bedroom on the final level before the ground floor.

Glancing in she saw the green-eyed woman who had outed Sun and Blake and had to suppress the anger that wasn’t truly meant for her. _Ivy_ , she reminded herself as the oddly sprawled woman waved. The person she was talking to leaned part of his massive frame over to look out into the hall. “Oh,” he said, seeming truly pleased to see her. “Hey, Yang.”

“Hey. Yatsu and Ivy, right?”

“Yup!” he said as she smiled and chimed in, “That’s me.”

“Sorry to interrupt…”

“No, no, not at all,” he said. “Come in, unless you’re looking for someone else.”

“No,” Yang assured him, accepting the invitation. “Just stretching my legs.” After entering she took the chair that was offered and sat down. “So,” she said, looking around and noticing the tangle of computers and electronics on the desk. “Whatcha working on?”

“Oh that,” Yatsuhashi said, waving at the pile. “Most of that’s left over from installing sensors all around the perimeter of the house. Now I’m working on hacking into the Council’s email servers. We can usually find out what’s being discussed about a day or so after it filters through various sources, but Coco said that’s not soon enough.”

“Coco’s the big boss lady then?” Yang asked.

“Sure is, she always has a plan,” the big man said.

“And you’re the IT department?”

Yatsu laughed. It wasn’t as booming as Yang would expect from a man his size, but it was genuine. “More or less.”

“How about you?” Yang said, turning to where Ivy was lounging.

“I decode anything that’s encrypted, though right now I’m helping Yatsu compile a list of likely passwords so he can run a dictionary attack on their systems.”

“Solid,” Yang said. “I’m garbage at hacking, so I’m glad we have some professionals on our side.”

“Didn’t you hack a squadron of Paladins?” Yatsu asked.

Yang blinked. “How did you hear about that?”

Yatsu smiled. “Hacker, remember?” When Yang narrowed her eyes at him he laughed. “Ok, fine. I read Blake’s report of the incident. Still, is it true?”

Despite the rush of emotion that flooded Yang’s mind at the mention of Blake telling the tale of that awful night, she couldn’t help but chuckle at the big man’s earnest curiosity. “Yeah I guess I did, but that doesn’t count. Weiss gave me the schematics and it just so happened they ran on the same platform that I was using for…well for this,” she said holding out her arm.

Yatsu whistled appreciatively as she moved it fluidly around in a brief demonstration. “So you designed this beauty?”

“More or less, had some help though.”

Peering at the appendage more closely he said, “Whoever helped does amazing work.”

“Yes, they do,” Yang agreed.

“What happened to your real arm?” Ivy asked, delicate as a hammer.

Yang sighed. She considered several pithy responses and dropped them all. “I got shot,” she said finally, the words ringing through the room like the report of a gun.

“I’m sorry,” the woman replied, her hands abruptly halting their ceaseless motion.

“It’s ok,” Yang said, getting up to leave. “It wasn’t even the most painful thing that happened to me that day.”

“What was?” Ivy asked.

Yang stopped at the door, only partly turning her head back to look at those wide, green eyes. Yatsu was looking away, so either he knew or could guess, but Yang didn’t want to think about that. “Why don’t you ask Blake?” she said before heading for the stairs.

\--

“What’s the matter? Library not dramatic enough for brooding?” Sun asked, stepping out onto the slanting roof and walking up to where Blake perched on the shingles.

She continued looking out over the steep drop and distant valley, half in shadow and half bathed in rich golden rays from the setting sun. The sky in front of her was fading to a vibrant red, while behind her she knew the dark purple of night was already settling in. “I just didn’t want to be found.” She glanced at him meaningfully before looking back into the distance. “Looks like I failed on that front.”

“I think you did want to be found,” Sun said as he settled down next to her. “Otherwise you would have chosen somewhere a bit further away.”

Blake scoffed. “Not like it would have mattered, you seem to be able to track me down and catch me by surprise at will.”

“It only seems that way,” Sun said with a laugh. “I just wait until you’re so focused on something else that you lose track of your surroundings.”

“I don’t do that!”

Sun nodded. “Yes, you do. When you’re fixated on something you tend to get a bit of tunnel vision,” he said, wincing at the glare he received as a reward for his observation.

“Yeah well you’re…always barging in where you aren’t wanted.”

“I can go if you’d rather-“

“No,” she said, her head drooping onto her folded arms, which were propped up on her knees. “Stay. I’m sorry.”

“It’s ok,” he said, not needing to resettle as he hadn’t so much as shifted to leave. “Want to talk about it?”

“No.”

“Ok-”

“It’s just,” Blake said, her head popping back up. “I wasn’t ready, you know? I had this whole plan for how it was going to go down. I was going to deal with Adam and clear my name and go back to her. I was going to tell her she was safe and that we never had to be apart again and throw myself at her feet and beg for forgiveness. Whatever it took, you know?”

“I mean you still could-“

“No, I can’t!” she cried. “I could beg, but I can’t promise her we won’t be apart, and she’s not safe; Adam’s still out there!”

“I could be wrong,” Sun said. “But it kind of seems like she can take care of herself.”

“I…of course she can,” Blake said, floundering. “But Adam is different, he’s my problem. He already hurt her so badly and I won’t let him do it again.”

“She seems fine now.”

Blake stared at him. “Are you serious? She has a fucking mechanical arm!”

“Yeah, and it looks pretty awesome if you ask me.”

“Sun!”

“Ok, ok,” he said, putting his smile away. “My point is that she hasn’t been waiting around to be rescued while you were gone; it looks like she’s found a way to heal. Maybe before you assume she needs a knight in shining armor you should talk to her. She might just need you.”

“I’m the last thing she needs,” Blake said, looking at the last shining sliver of sun as it dipped below a distant mountain.

\--

Yang found Weiss in the kitchen, sitting at the big wooden table across from Coco, laughing over her mostly empty mug. “Oh, hey Yang,” she said. “Pull up a chair. Coco was just telling me how I’m the reason they were able to hide out in this house.”

Yang plopped down, rolling her eyes. “Why am I not surprised?”

“You may not be, but I sure as hell am,” Coco said, gesturing with her cup. “I thought it was just a bluff on Blake’s part, then she goes and tells me she actually knows Weiss _fucking_ Schnee!”

Weiss laughed again. “Yes, well, turns out I do mix with the peasantry from time to time,” she said in a mocking version of her own haughty tone.

“Lucky for us,” Coco replied. “Blake really pulled us out of a tight spot when she found this house. It isn’t an exaggeration to say we owe you our lives.”

“So you really were being hunted?” Yang asked.

“Were, are, will continue to be.”

“By who?”

“Death’s Messengers, as it so happens. I believe you are acquainted,” Coco replied with a wry grin. When Yang didn’t respond beyond clenching her jaw she went on. “You mentioned something about your mom being involved with them?”

“You could say that,” Yang replied. “She’s their leader.”

Coco’s eyes went wide. “Oh,” she said, casting about for a reasonable query to the startling revelation. “How long has that been going on?”

“You’re asking the wrong person,” Yang said. “I found out a few hours after they kidnapped us.”

“So your mom had you kidnapped…?”

“She didn’t know who I was, just that I was asking after her. She was as surprised as I was when I walked into her tent. It was the first time we’d seen each other since I was an infant.”

“So no chance you could…I don’t know, ask her to back off?”

Yang shook her head, a pained ghost of a smile on her lips. “Not exactly, no.”

“Fuck,” Coco said. “Ok then. Do you think Qrow was in touch with her?”

“Hard to say. He never mentioned her, but he also never mentioned working for an international spy agency, so who knows?” Yang watched as Coco cataloged the new information, already fitting it into some internal framework as the words landed. It was a useful distraction to keep her from thinking about the actual content of what she’d just said. “Sorry I can’t give you anything more,” she added.

“No need to apologize, I appreciate you telling me that much. Thank you,” Coco said. “And…I’m sorry. That must have been an awful shock.”

Yang waved her off. “It’s fine. Who hasn’t run into their estranged mother after nearly three decades to discover she’s actually a murderer for hire, am I right?”

Coco smirked, but Weiss seemed less amused at the attempt to make light of the situation. Before either could respond the front door swung wide, admitting the remainder of the team.

“We’re in here!” Coco called out, prompting the pair to swing their way. “Weiss, Yang, meet Jay and Aqua,” she said as they entered the kitchen. “Jay and Aqua; Weiss and Yang. They’re joining us while we hunt down Oak’s daughter and the missing doctors.”

Jay nodded while Aqua said, “Nice to meet you.” Turning to Coco she added with some urgency, “We need to talk.”

“Well, don’t keep me in suspense,” the squad leader said. “Report.”

Yang watched her subconsciously straighten. Everything about her screamed former military. “Atlas is moving their forces.”

“Where?” Coco demanded, all levity gone. “When?”

“First wave moves out tomorrow. My contact didn’t say where, but it was pretty clear that there’s only one place they could be going.”

“Fucking hell,” Coco said. “Argus?”

“Wait, isn’t moving their army to Anima a declaration of war?” Yang asked.

“Technically? No,” Coco said.

“Not unless they cross the official border between their base and the city,” Weiss explained.

“Got it one,” Coco remarked. “Still, this isn’t good. Jay,” she said. “Go grab Hark, we need his input. While you’re at it get the others, we may as well all be on the same page.”

“On it, boss,” he said as he loped out of the kitchen and up the stairs.

\--

A short time later the others filtered down into the kitchen. Carmina introduced herself through a yawn when she noticed Weiss and Yang, and Yatsu offered to make dinner. Coco waved him off. “I already ordered something, figured you deserve a break from cooking.” Jay returned, short two agents. A fact that did not escape her. “Where are Sun and Blake?”

“I don’t know,” he said with a shrug.

Coco looked awkwardly at Yang, then back at Jay. “Did you check both of their rooms?” she asked finally.

“Yup, no sign. I sent them each a text though.”

“Ok,” Coco sighed. A moment later she heard light footsteps coming down the stairs. “Good,” she said, her feelings on the matter in stark contrast to the word she had spoken as the tardy pair entered. “You decided to join us.”

“Sorry,” Sun mumbled, while Blake said nothing at all.

The searing glare Yang gave them as they entered would have made a wildfire jealous. Coco knew she was going to have to address that at some point; she couldn’t have that kind of energy on her team if they were going to stay alive much less have any hope of accomplishing anything. She added it to her lengthy to-do list and set it aside for the time being and instead looked at Aqua. “A, tell everyone what you just told me.”

As the sapper gave her report Hark nodded. “Yeah,” he said when she finished. “That lines up with the whispers I’ve been hearing. It hasn’t been announced yet but I expect there will be an emergency Council session in the coming days; Oak will be pushing for a formal declaration of war.”

“Will he get it?” Coco asked.

Hark shrugged. “Maybe. Aspis is the only one who will push back, but he’s been using every procedural trick in the book to slow-walk this process. With Atlas knocking at the door he’ll be low on options, so at best I’d expect him to last a few days, a week, tops.”

“We need to know when that meeting is being held and get ears on the inside. Yatsu, progress?”

“Just started the dictionary attack, could take days,” he replied.

“We don’t have days.”

The big man nodded. “I’ll burn the midnight oil, see if I can come up with something better.”

“Thanks, we’re counting on you. Hark, what’s the word on Oak’s daughter?” Coco asked.

“I’ve narrowed it down to six locations, not sure I can do much better than that.”

“I can work with that,” Coco responded. “Tomorrow we’ll split into teams and scope out as many as we can. Hopefully, we can eliminate most of them from a distance. In the meantime,” she said, looking at her stylish watch just as a knock sounded at the door. “Perfect. Jay, come help me grab the food. I hate planning on an empty stomach.”

They returned with several paper bags loaded with takeout cartons, and soon everyone had claimed their favorite. While they ate Coco explained the plan. Hark, Ivy, and Yatsu were to focus on getting the details of the Council meeting while the rest would split into pairs to scout the potential holding locations for Oak’s daughter. No one was to go alone, and since both Yang and Weiss volunteered, she added them to the roster. They protested at first when she split them up, but eventually accepted that they were new and it made sense to pair them with more experienced team members.

That wasn’t Coco’s only motivation in how she assigned teams, but she didn’t tell them that. She was tempted to put Yang and Blake together, force them to work their shit out, but she couldn’t risk the mission. That said, she knew that putting Blake with Sun, as she otherwise would, probably wasn’t going to help things. In the end, she figured Yang and Aqua were most likely to get along, so she paired them up. Weiss she paired with Blake, both because they knew each other and because Weiss was so obviously a Schnee that she would need a master of stealth to keep her out of sight. Sun and Jay would be fine, they were professionals. Hark sent her the list of six locations and she assigned two to each pair. She and Carmina would be in reserve, ready to come in for an assist if something went sideways.

“Everyone cool with that?” she said when she’d finished.

Yang shrugged but smiled when Aqua held out her hand for a fist bump, meeting the bony knuckles with her metal ones. “Brute squad,” Aqua said, and Yang laughed her agreement.

“Don’t get any ideas, it’s just recon,” Coco chided, trying to hide her smile at the small win; Aqua recognized a fighter when she saw one, just as Coco had hoped. The sooner she could fully incorporate Weiss and Yang the better, but it was a delicate process and difficult to rush. With any luck, the simple op would help bond them with the team as well as give Coco a better feel for their strengths and weaknesses before she would need to know how to use the former and shore up the latter.

“Alright,” Yatsu announced once he’d cleared multiple plates. “I need to get back to work.”

“I’ll come up with you,” Ivy offered.

Hark followed soon after, and then everyone started to get up and clear the table in preparation for bed. “Ok everyone,” Coco announced when they were done. “Go get some rest while you can. I’m not sure how many opportunities there will be for that in the days to come.” While everyone filtered through the door, Coco hung back. “Sun, could I have a word?” He turned and nodded but she was already looking past him. She caught Weiss’s eye just as the woman reached the threshold, and she sincerely hoped they understood one another.

\--

The group thudded their way up the stairs. Jay and Aqua peeled off on the third floor, seeking their respective rooms and leaving Weiss, Yang, and Blake to finish the climb in a pulsing silence. As they reached their floor Weiss made a noise of disgust. “Blast, I left my scroll in the kitchen,” she said, turning and hurrying back down, leaving the other two alone.

Blake’s mind raced. It was obviously a ploy, and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to curse Weiss out or kiss her, but either way, she couldn’t let the opportunity slip away. “Hey,” she said, reaching out and grabbing Yang’s arm as she turned to walk away. The material under her hand was hard and smooth, but not cold and dead like she thought it would be. Instead, it was warm, nearly as warm as she remembered the skin being that should have been there. It also had a faint hum to it; it wasn’t alive in the traditional sense, but there was a spark there. The creator and owner of the arm turned and looked at her. Her expression was far from pleased or welcoming but it wasn’t quite a glare, so Blake took it as an invitation. “Can we talk?” she asked. “Please?”

Yang glanced toward her room, then seemed to think better of it. “Ok,” she said, crossing her arms. “Let’s talk.”

“I’d rather not do it here,” Blake said, gesturing around the open landing. “Maybe my room-?”

“No.”

Blake flinched as though hearing the ghostly echo of splintering ice beneath her feet as she crossed a frozen pond on a sunny day. “Right,” she said, her stomach churning. “Follow me.” Slowly she made her way up the narrow stairs to the library, looking back and pausing when Yang didn’t immediately follow. After some internal battle, the stubborn woman blew out a fierce breath and stomped up behind her.

The room was dark when they arrived. The only illumination was the faint moonlight trickling down through the skylights overhead. It was plenty for Blake, of course, but she cast about for a light switch until she found one tucked between two shelves. Pressing it flooded the library in warm, amber light, and she let her eyes adjust before turning back to face Yang.

Emotions raged through Blake: relief and fear and guilt and joy all jostled for attention, and all were drowned out by love. Even though she didn’t feel it returned, she couldn’t deny that her heart still shone with love for the angry woman who had so suddenly reappeared in her life. “It is so good to see you,” she said, unable to deny it. When Yang didn’t respond she felt herself begin to flounder. “Your arm is beautiful,” she said. “I knew you could figure it out.”

Yang held her black and yellow hand in front of her, looking down as she flexed the fingers. “I didn’t do it on my own,” she said quietly. “I had a lot of help from the people who stuck around.”

Blake’s face burned as though the armored hand had struck her, and she almost wished it had. “Yang, I…I didn’t just run, I did it to-“

“To protect me,” Yang finished for her. “I know.”

“Yes!” Blake cried. A fragile relief flooded her system as words rushed from her lips. “I tried to turn myself in, thinking I could make a deal and keep you out of prison and safe, but then this man showed up and said if I worked for him they’d clear my name and I could be free-“

“And did you, once, consider discussing any of this with me?” Yang demanded.

Blake's mouth opened and closed impotently a few times. “There…wasn’t time, I had to-“

“Bullshit!”

How was everything going so wrong? “You have to understand-“

“No, you have to understand,” Yang snapped, taking an aggressive step closer. “The only thing I needed was for you to be there when I woke up. That’s all. But apparently, that was too much to ask.”

“I’m sorry,” Blake whispered, hugging herself and shrinking back. “It was all my fault, I just wanted to fix it.”

Yang held up her mechanical arm and waited for Blake to stop looking away and acknowledge it. “I fixed it. Me,” she said, letting the arm drop along with her voice. “And it wasn’t your fault in the first place. I never blamed you for my arm, Blake. I never blamed you for any of it. You would have known that if you stuck around.”

“What? Stuck around so we could both go to jail?” Blake retorted, seeking refuge in righteous indignation so she didn’t give in to her bitter tears.

“If that’s what came of it? Yes! So long as we faced it together.”

“I-“

“No,” Yang said with an air of finality. “There was a time when I wanted your apologies, your explanations. When I needed you to be there for me. That time has passed.” She shook her head sadly. “But we’re adults. We can work together until we find Ruby, and once we do, Weiss and I are out.”

“Of course,” Blake said, unable to meet Yang’s stony eyes. “I understand.”

“Good.”

Then Yang was gone, and Blake was left alone, surrounded by the wisdom of countless authors, none of whom had anything useful to say to her. Instead of seeking their guidance she scrambled up a bookcase and slipped out through a skylight, racing to the top of the roof so that only the twinkling stars and shattered moon could bear witness to her grief.


	25. Getting to Work

Weiss had known the talk she’d helped orchestrate had gone poorly as soon as Yang had stormed into their room the night before. It wasn’t until the next morning, however, that she realized just how poorly. She slept the whole night through in the large, plush bed, waking to her alarm rather than the terrified cries of her bedmate. When she looked over she saw Yang lying perfectly still and staring at the ceiling through red-rimmed eyes.

“Did you get any sleep?” Weiss asked as she silenced her chirping scroll.

“Tons,” Yang said, swinging herself out of bed and refusing any attempts at further conversation as they dressed.

They made their way down the stairs, following the sounds and smells of breakfast into the kitchen. There, they found Yatsu hard at work at the stove while Coco and Carmina hovered over the coffeemaker. “Want a cup?” Coco said by way of greeting.

“Yes,” Yang and Weiss chorused, picking out seats at the large table as Coco plucked the newly filled carafe off of the burner and poured out five mugs, handing them to Carmina for delivery. The others slowly trickled in, and Yatsu served around heaping plates of eggs and bacon. Blake arrived last, sitting as far from Yang as possible and eating her breakfast in silence.

“Alright crew,” Coco announced after checking her watch. “Time for us to roll out. Remember, the whole point of today is to be inconspicuous. Scope out the location, find out what you can, but don’t get too close, and don’t be seen. To that end,” she said, looking at Weiss and Yang. “You two, with me.”

She led them out of the kitchen and up to her room, showing them a set of freestanding racks with dozens of outfits hanging from them. After rifling through one she pulled out a long, robe-like dress with a loose hood. “For you,” she said, handing it to Weiss. When she received a confused look in response she rolled her eyes. “You’re Weiss Schnee. People recognize you from a mile away. You need to cover your hair and that pale complexion and this is the most inconspicuous way to do that.

“Fair enough,” Weiss allowed.

Coco turned and looked Yang up and down. “You should mostly be fine,”

“Advantage of being a nobody,” Yang quipped.

“Indeed,” Coco agreed. “But people might notice your arm. Might want to roll your sleeve down. Any chance you've got some gloves?”

Yang nodded. “Yeah, I’ll go get them.”

“Good, in the meantime we’ll get Weiss here changed and see if we can’t make her invisible.”

As Yang left, Coco watched Weiss expectantly, only turning around with a mischievous grin when she demanded some privacy. A few minutes later Yang returned and nodded her approval at the transformation.

“Other than regal posture, that’s a solid disguise,” she remarked.

“I agree, could you slouch a little?” Coco asked.

Weiss did her best, which is to say she was still standing straight enough to pass muster with a demanding drill sergeant. “It’ll do,” Coco said, passing a chuckle off as a cough and turning her attention to Yang. “Let’s see.” Yang held up her hands, now shod in her fingerless gloves. “Not bad,” Coco allowed. “Keep the sleeves on your jacket down and you’ll be fine. Looks like you’re ready for your first mission, ladies.”

\--

Each team was given their targets and sent on their way. Beringer owned property all over Mistral, but according to Hark, the six locations they were scouting were the only ones that he thought could potentially hold a team of doctors and a sick faunus girl without anyone noticing. Some of the buildings were openly owned by the gangster while others were held through shell corporations, but all were discreet and had a public function that kept foot traffic to a minimum. Unfortunately, the last attribute also made it hard for anyone to get inside and take a look. With that in mind, Yatsuhashi had supplied all of them with a portable suite of surveillance equipment in hopes that they would spot something that gave away the hideout.

Weiss had listened to their assignments without complaint, but as she and Blake picked their way through the middle tiers she made her displeasure known. “We got the safest buildings, didn’t we?”

Blake didn’t look over at her from within her hooded dress, but Weiss must have seen her ears twitch guiltily. “Yes,” she admitted.

“I’m assuming that’s because of me?”

“No…” Blake said, then sighed. There was no use lying. ”Probably.”

“I hate being treated with kid gloves,” Weiss muttered.

“It’s not that, exactly…”

“Oh? Then what is it?”

“I mean,” Blake said. “You know who you are. Coco's not going to risk you getting captured down below, or recognized up above.”

“That’s not…ok fine, I admit that there’s a risk that someone in the upper-tier might recognize me,” Weiss conceded. “But I can handle myself in the rougher parts of town. Yang wasn’t the only reason we made it across Anima.” Blake turned and cocked an eye at her. “Do you want me to prove it?” Weiss added.

“No,” Blake said slowly, having learned the hard way never to underestimate Weiss. “I believe you. Take it up with Coco I guess, but she’s not going to just take your word for it. Quiet now, we’re approaching our first stop.”

The building they sought was a nondescript warehouse on a sparsely trafficked block. They spent several minutes loitering and pretending to search their scrolls for some other destination, but no one approached or left the building while they stalled. Blake ran out of patience and reached into her bag of goodies. She pulled out a palm-sized disk a couple of inches thick that was flat on one side and had a slightly cupped membrane on the other. “Keep watch,” she said as she plugged a set of headphones into the side of the device and walked over to the warehouse, ducking down the narrow alley running alongside it.

She rested the device against the wall and put the headphones in her ears, listening for several seconds to the gentle hiss as it picked up total silence. A few seconds of that convinced her there was no one home and she pulled out her scroll to pair it with the device as Yatsu had shown her. With a few clicks, she switched on the high-frequency emitter and sent a wave of rapid pulses into the building. They were well outside of human hearing, but as they fired she was able to pick up a slight whine that set her teeth on edge. With any luck, she hadn’t missed the signs of anyone within, and if she had she just had to hope they didn’t have overly-sharp hearing.

A cheery beep from her scroll indicated that the scan was complete, and she returned the device and her headphones to her bag as she looked at the 3D rendering of what the device saw within.

She slunk back to the very nervous-looking Weiss and held up her scroll. “This isn’t it,” she said.

“Are you sure?” Weiss said, squinting at the wireframe and clearly not understanding what she was seeing.

“Yes,” Blake said, pointing to the outlines within the large rectangle of the building. “These are all stacks of something. This place is so full there wouldn’t even be space to walk for more than three or four people.”

Weiss nodded as she started to piece together what she was seeing. “Oh, I see it now. What do you think it is?”

“Drugs? Rice? Who knows?” Blake said, returning her scroll to her pocket. “Not our objective, not our problem. On to number two.”

\--

“What do you think?” Yang asked as Aqua squinted at the readout.

“E.M. Readings are off the chart,” she replied. “Whatever’s in there is drawing a hell of a lot of power.”

“Medical equipment is very power-hungry,” Yang pointed out.

They had watched people come and go from the dilapidated building for the better part of an hour. Despite it being tucked away in a corner of a rough section of town only a tier or two above the base, it was drawing a somewhat steady stream of personnel.

“Yeah, that’s true…” Aqua agreed.

“But?”

“But what’s with the shivering? It’s warm out, but everyone coming out looks like they’re freezing.”

“Condensers also use a lot of electricity,” Yang said, disappointment thick in her voice. “Not our place.”

“We don’t know that yet,” Aqua said, putting away her scanner. “We need confirmation.”

“What did you have in mind?”

“Several things that would not maintain the level of discretion that Coco wants. Give me a minute to try to think like someone sneaky.”

“Sneaky isn’t necessarily my strong point, but if this is a refrigerated building they’ll have a pretty comprehensive HVAC system,” Yang pointed out.

“Complete with ventilation shafts,” the sapper said, finishing the thought. “How are you with heights?”

A few minutes later they had scaled the roof of a nearby building, easily leaping across the narrow alleys until they were on the roof of the building in question. It was almost entirely covered in humming condensers radiating the heat that they were busily pulling out of the building below. Aqua produced a multitool and unscrewed a maintenance panel on the one nearest them, letting out a frigid blast of air from the shaft that led below. Next, she pulled out a tiny flying drone that was no bigger than a hummingbird, and a few quick taps on her scroll later had it hovering in front of her. Taking one look down the shaft before sending her craft in she pulled back and swore. “The main fan is blocking the path.”

“Get ready to send it in,” Yang said, taking off her jacket and removing the glove from her right hand. Aqua seemed intrigued but said nothing, watching as Yang considered the fan for a moment, took a deep breath, and jammed her arm into the shaft, halting the fan suddenly with a metallic twang. “Hurry up,” Yang grunted over the groaning of the fan’s motor.

Aqua jerked back into motion and sent the little craft zipping over Yang’s shoulder and down the shaft, navigating it past the quivering fan blades and down into the darkness. “I’m through!” she said. Yang yanked her arm back out, examining her palm and nodding when she brushed the grease away and found nary a scratch. “That’s pretty fucking cool,” Aqua said, looking down at her scroll as she steered the drone further into the facility.

“It’s better than nothing, that’s for sure,” Yang murmured. “How are we looking?”

“The rest of the shaft seems clear, the force from the fan is knocking the poor thing around like hell, but we’re getting there.”

“Good.”

Yang stepped over to watch the feed over her shoulder. They both held their breath until Aqua brought the little craft to rest near one of the grates hanging over the middle of the main floor. Clicking through various sensors she settled on the infrared camera and shook her head. “This can’t be it.”

“Why?” Yang asked.

“Whole building is well below freezing. The people who are in there must be wearing heavy jackets and not staying long because that’s killing cold.”

“Damn.”

“Yeah,” Aqua agreed. “Come on, let’s get this little guy back out, we still have one more place to check out.”

\--

“I hope the others had more luck than we did,” Weiss said as they trudged back up the stairs after coming up empty on their second try.

“I’m sure they did,” Blake said. “We’ll find Ruby, I know it.”

“Yeah,” Weiss said, looking like she was trying to believe it. It must have been a sore spot, however, as she quickly changed the subject. “So…I take it last night didn’t go super great?”

Blake let out a mirthless laugh. “You could say that. Or you could say it was an unmitigated disaster. Thanks a lot for setting me up like that, by the way.”

“Are you telling me you didn’t want to talk to Yang, alone?”

“I…no,” Blake admitted with a sigh. “But it seems she didn’t want to talk to me.”

“I don’t believe that for a second.”

“You weren’t there last night.”

“Maybe not, but it doesn’t take a genius to see that Yang is still hung up on you.”

“She would disagree with that,” Blake said.

“She would be wrong,” Weiss stated. “She’s going through a hard time, and doing her best to cope. For Yang, that means burying her head in the sand and ignoring her problems.”

“Are you saying I’m one of her problems?”

Weiss shook her head. “No, I’m saying that the way things stand between you is a problem. Maybe she said she doesn’t want to talk, and maybe she thinks she doesn’t, but she’s lying to herself. Don’t give up so easily.”

Blake looked idly up across the top of the heads of those traveling up and down the stairs. “Maybe you’re right-“

“I know I am.”

“Yeah well, I’ll have to be careful, my apology last night didn’t go over so well.”

“You were probably apologizing for the wrong thing.”

“What?” Blake asked, hesitating for a step before stepping to keep up.

“If I have to explain it then it won’t mean as much when you say it,” Weiss said. “Come on, let’s get back.”

Blake spent the rest of the silent walk back pondering her friend’s cryptic remarks. She was so focused on discovering the meaning within that she didn’t notice the sound of a pair of booted feet trailing behind them.

\--

“Good, you’re here,” Coco said when Blake and Weiss returned. “Any luck?”

“No,” Blake said. “Did you need something?” she asked when she noticed the woman’s impatience.

“Yes,” Coco said. “Come with me, I’ll explain while we get you changed.”

“Changed?”

“You’ve got a meeting to attend.”

Coco rapidly explained that the emergency Council session was starting soon, and Hark had learned that the catering was being handled by a faunus-owned company run by one of Beringer’s partners. Hark had called in a favor and arranged for a few of the workers to come down with a rather nasty case of food poisoning (“They’ll be fine,” he’d insisted) and now the company was scrambling for replacements. Cover names for Blake and Sun, with references to back them up, had been whipped up while they were out investigating. Coco and Yatsu had called ahead under the assumed names to get the jobs. All they had to do was show up at the catering company’s office and they would be put to work, hopefully within eavesdropping range of the Council members.

“What about Sun?” Blake asked.

“He and Jay are headed back, I’ll send him as soon as they arrive,” Coco assured her. “What do you think?” she asked Weiss as Blake stepped out in her immaculate, white button-down and black slacks.

“I think I could use an hors d’oeuvre,” Weiss replied.

“Funny,” Blake said. “Alright, I guess I’ll go?”

“Yeah,” Coco said. “The meeting is being held three levels down, I’ll text you the address.”

“Perfect.”

“And Blake?” Coco added.

“Yeah?”

“You’re there to listen,” she said, her gaze firm. “Keep your head down, and preferably out of sight of Oak.” Blake looked like she was about to say something, but then thought better of it and simply nodded. “Good, get out of here.”

A few minutes after the door closed behind Blake it opened again, admitting Aqua and Yang. “Anything?” Coco asked.

“Sorry boss,” Aqua said. “No dice.”

“Damn,” Coco replied. “Same for Blake and Weiss.”

“How about Jay and Sun?” Aqua asked.

“How about us?” Jay said with a big grin as he and Sun strolled in behind her.

“I swear, if you’re grinning like that for no reason…” Coco warned.

“Easy boss, I wouldn’t do that,” Jay said. “We think we found it.”

“You think?” Yang said, her head snapping around.

“It’s kind of a long story…” Sun began.

“You don’t have time to tell it,” Coco said. “You saw my text right?” When he nodded she went on. “Good, go change and get out of here. Jay, come up to Hark’s room, we’ll talk there.”

*** * * * ***

It had taken Blake a bit longer than anticipated to find the address she’d been given. The building was a nondescript government structure tucked in amidst a dozen just like it in the area surrounding City Hall. Once she had picked it out from amongst the others, she’d been pleased to find that getting in was every bit as easy as Coco had implied. It didn’t hurt that the stout woman running everything seemed far too busy to scrutinize her beyond verifying that she looked presentable enough before telling her where to go for work assignments. She quickly fell into the flow of things; it seemed that months of waiting tables at the Liberalia was finally about to pay off.

In the guise of looking eager to please, Blake volunteered for every opportunity to fetch and carry things to and from the main conference room. It was a long, windowless number dominated by a massive table in the center with a few smaller ones circling the perimeter like satellites. It was there that Blake and the others were depositing fare to feed not only the Council but also the army of aides and advisors that were swarming around them at all times like agitated bees tending their queen. Unfortunately, the few times Blake had managed to pass within range of the huddled group of Councilmen and their lackeys she’d only caught scraps of mostly useless, if overtly hostile, conversation.

Several trips later, she crossed paths with Sun while carrying a tray of dirty dishes back to the mobile washing station, and they quickly ducked aside when they thought they weren’t being watched.

“Have you heard anything?” He whispered when they found a quiet corner.

“No, other than complaints from Oak about being served subpar food ‘at a time like this’,” she grumbled.

“Ok, I’m going to try something-“

“I didn’t hire you two to stand around making eyes at each other!” a sharp voice cut in. Blake and Sun winced as their supervisor for the day swooped down on them. “Get back to work," she ordered. Then, as Sun turned toward the conference room, she added, "Actually, you look like a strong one. We need someone to haul garbage out to the dumpster.” Before Sun could protest she turned to leave and waved for him to follow. “Let’s go,” she snapped.

Sun trailed after her, grimacing back at Blake as he went but unable to argue. Blake fretted for a moment, briefly considered creating a distraction so he could carry out his plan, then let it go. She would just have to keep trying to eavesdrop whenever possible and hope for the best.

\--

“Alright Jay, out with it,” Coco said from her perch on Hark’s desk. She tried to conceal her anxiety, but the truth was that she was only slightly calmer than Yang, who was prowling the room, her eyes never leaving the man who might know where to find Ruby. Weiss, meanwhile, stood perfectly still as though waiting for the curtain to be pulled back on one of her performances; the fiercely intent look in her eyes the only thing that gave her away.

“Ok, so there’s a small possibility that it’s nothing-“

“For crying out loud,” Aqua said, her impatient tone at odds with her casual lean against the doorframe. “Stop hedging and just tell us.”

“Ok, fine, gods,” he said, looking around at each set of expectant eyes. “It was the location near the upper tiers. The lower was definitely nothing, but we couldn’t get with five blocks of that address you gave us up top. Looked like a fancy office of some sort, but there were sentries everywhere. All in disguise, but a guard’s a guard. We saw them all over the neighborhood, several posted up on rooftops around the building. All faunus. Looked like the White Fang.”

“Were you seen?” Coco asked.

Jay sneered. “We’re not amateurs.”

“You didn’t answer the question.”

“No, we weren’t seen,” he insisted. When Coco raised no more objections he went on. “But we couldn’t get close. We pulled out a few gadgets, Sun said the building was drawing a lot of power.”

“Were people shivering as they came out?” Aqua asked.

“No, what? No,” he said, looking at her like she was crazy. “It was just an office building. Most of the windows had the shades drawn but we caught a glimpse of the inside of one, just typical office stuff.”

“So how do you know it wasn’t just an office?” Yang demanded. “This could be a huge waste of time.”

“I mean the power is suspicious…” Hark said, finally speaking up as he consulted his notes.

“You guys might understand if you all shut up and listen,” Jay said, smiling as the room fell silent. “Was that so hard? I wouldn’t be back here reporting if that was all. We circled the place for a while, trying to find ways to get closer. We were scoping out the loading dock overhanging the cliff when a small ship showed up, like one of those little private transports you guys took to the party.”

“And?” Coco prompted.

“And, a couple of White Fang in uniform hopped out and guided a blindfolded man out after them. It was Oak,” he said.

“Are you sure?” Coco demanded.

“He’s hard to miss, I’m sure.”

The room went silent, even Yang stopped her pacing. “I had a feeling about that place,” Hark muttered. When everyone looked at him he explained, “Beringer sold it a little over a month ago, made a lot of noise about it so it was clear he wasn’t associated with it anymore. I almost didn’t include it on the list, but it was a prime location and it was bought by some nobody who’s done nothing with it. Given how good a hiding spot this house has been for us it felt worth checking out.”

“Glad you did,” Coco agreed.

Yang looked at the silent leader expectantly. “Well?”

“Well, what?” Coco countered.

“Let’s go!”

“Hold it there cowboy,” Coco said. “We’re not rushing into the middle of a facility guarded by the White Fang without a plan. That’s a good way to get everyone killed, your sister included.”

Yang’s eyes blazed but she bit back her retort. “Fine,” she said. “What do we do?”

“First, we all calm down,” Coco said, her eyes going slightly out of focus as the gears began to turn in her mind. “Then you give me time. We can’t go in tonight regardless.”

“Why not?” Yang asked.

“We’ll need Sun and Blake, first of all.”

Yang’s lip curled back. “We don’t need-“

“I’ll be the judge of who we do and don’t need,” Coco shot back, leaning forward and meeting Yang’s glare.

“You know, I could really go for a sparring match to clear my head,” Aqua said, as though it was a random thought that had just occurred to her. “Yang, why don’t you show me what you’ve got?”

For a moment it looked like her call would go unheeded, but after stewing for a beat Yang turned to follow her. “Fine,” she said through clenched teeth as she stomped out of the room.

“Is she always like that?” Coco asked after she was gone.

“No,” Weiss responded with a sigh. “Sometimes she loses her temper.” 

Coco’s snapped her head around to see if that had been a joke, and was dismayed to see that it hadn’t been. “Noted,” she remarked.

“Don’t worry,” Weiss said. “You can count on her so long as your mission includes saving Ruby.”

“What about after that?”

She shrugged. “After that, we’ll be gone, so it won’t matter.”

Coco considered this. “Guess we’ll cross that bridge when we get there.”

Weiss nodded. “Well,” she said, turning toward the door. “I’ll leave you to it.”

\--

Blake fought to stay focused as time dragged on. She had to continually remind herself that, despite the monotony, there was vital work to be done. It was just really hard to remember that when being asked to fetch another tray of chopped cucumbers because the last one looked a little iffy, thank you very much…

She shook her head, pulling her attention back to the task at hand, and strode through the conference room with her stupid tray. As she set it down she felt herself drifting again, only to be jerked back to the moment but a sudden slam on the table behind her.

“Dammit, Aspis!” Oak cried. Blake lingered while trying to look like she was simply rearranging the food before her. “You can’t stonewall us at a time like this.”

“I will do what is necessary to defend our people from pointless bloodshed,” came the response, apparently from Aspis.

“The rest of us are in agreement-“

“Well, I’m not,” Aspis retorted. “And frankly, I’m shocked that all of you are so ready to go to war with Atlas.”

The room fell silent, and suddenly Blake felt very conspicuous. “Would you rather we roll over to the Atlesians?” Oak rumbled.

“I didn’t-“

“Miss?” Blake turned to the large man who’d approached her. “I’m sorry, but this conversation is growing somewhat sensitive. I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

Blake looked from his earpiece to the obvious bulge where a gun was slung under his suit jacket. Security. Right. “Of course,” she said, bowing her head slightly. “My apologies.”

She strode from the room, trying to look like she was walking with a purpose without actually hurrying. Nothing of consequence reached her ears before she was outside, however, and she cursed her way back to the makeshift kitchen to receive more orders she was in no way interested in carrying out.

Several minutes and just as many mindless tasks later, Sun appeared before her, urgently pulling her aside. “We can’t be seen slacking again-“ Blake warned, but he shushed her, listening to something else. “What are you doing?”

“I snuck a microphone into the conference room,” he said, still listening.

Blake smiled. “You’re brilliant. Have you heard anything?”

“Aspis is blocking Oak’s push for emergency powers.”

“I gathered that.”

“But Oak has a workaround…Oh shit.”

“What?” Blake asked, pulling out her vibrating scroll at the same time.

“We may have a problem.”

She read the message Coco had sent her a second time and felt her blood run cold. “Yeah,” she agreed. “More than one.”

\--

Yang lay back on the lush grass in the big back yard, panting and sweating and finally starting to think straight again. Aqua had been right, sparring had been exactly what she needed. It had been fun working against the experienced soldier, but also challenging as she held back to make sure she didn’t accidentally hurt her. At first Aqua had yelled at her for her reluctance, but after Yang broke out of a perfectly executed armbar by overpowering the rangy woman’s entire body without apparent effort all comments about her restraint ended.

That didn’t mean Yang was able to coast, though; far from it. She was thrilled to find an incredibly skilled and adaptable opponent in Aqua, and when they finally called time they both regarded each other with newfound respect. “Where’d you learn to fight like that?” Aqua asked her as they picked themselves up and sauntered back toward the house.

“The short version? A bunch of dojos and then an underground fighting circuit,” Yang said, laughing at how ridiculous it sounded.

“Wait, what?” Aqua asked. “What’s the long version?”

Yang shook her head, her smile fading slightly. “Maybe another time. What about you?”

“Atlas military.”

“You’re pretty good for a soldier,” Yang ribbed. “Especially one from Atlas.”

“Oh you did not-“

But their banter was interrupted by Jay sticking his head out the back door, looking around as though expecting to see enemies emerge from the bushes. “You two, inside. Now,” he hissed.

“What’s going on?” Yang asked, but Aqua had caught Jay’s sense of urgency and was already running for the door. Yang followed close on her heels.

The trio ran through the house, Jay leading them directly to Yatsuhashi’s room. They entered to find everyone else already there, clustered behind the big man as his fingers flew across the keyboard.

“What’s going on?” Yang repeated when no one explained.

Yatsu turned toward them, his eyes wide and his face draining of color. “They found us.”


	26. The Attack

The room exploded into a cacophony of questions and accusations.

“Who found us?”

“How?”

“What do we do?

“Who led them here?!”

“Enough!” Coco shouted. The room descended into an uneasy silence. “Yatsu, report.”

“It looks like Death’s Messengers. Their scouts are disguised but when they tripped the alarms I sent out some of our drones.” After tapping a few commands a shaky video feed popped up showing uniformed men and women crouching on an otherwise empty stairway, brightly illuminated by the setting sun. “That’s just below our level. They’re waiting for something.”

“How long do we have?” Coco asked.

“I have no idea what they’re waiting on, but if someone gives the signal they could be at our front door in minutes. Four, maybe five, tops.”

“Ok,” Coco said, her eyes dropping and her focus turning entirely within. As her plan formed she began to lightly bounce to an internal beat, a manic grin splitting her face. She did so love impossible problems. “Jay, you get Hark and Ivy out. Each of you bring a bag but travel light. Go to the safe house; if it’s been compromised fall back and let us know. You have two minutes to get out. Go.”

Hark and Ivy sprinted for the door, knowing that the two-minute mark was not flexible. Before he could follow Coco grabbed Jay’s arm. “Only use lethal force if there’s no other option,”

“Boss-“

“Jay, listen to me,” she insisted. “We have no legal standing here, if you kill someone, the next time we won’t be facing mercs, we’ll be facing Mistral soldiers. Only if there’s no other option. Do you understand?”

“Yes-“

“Say it.”

Jay’s smile evaporated and he nodded. “I understand.”

“Good, now go. Out in ninety seconds.”

As Jay vanished Coco turned, scanning the room. “Yatsu, Mina,” she said. “You two need to gather up the rest of our gear; as much as you can you carry. Take it to one of the ships you have handy, don’t tell me which.” When Mina looked ready to object Coco waved her off. “It’s good procedure and you know it. Wait at the ship. If the safe house is intact go there, if not get in the air and pick up those you can, prioritize Hark and Ivy.”

“I’m not leaving you-“

“This is not a discussion; I am giving you a direct order. Do you understand or do I need to get a new pilot?” Coco said, every inch the commanding officer.

“No, ma’am,” Carmina said quietly, her whole body shaking. “I understand.”

“Good, if you can get out in under five that would be ideal, but we’ll make sure you have time.” As Carmina stormed out of the room Coco turned to Yatsu. “Leave what monitoring equipment you can. We’re going to stall them and I’d rather not do it blind.”

“You got it,” he replied, pulling up the critical feeds on his computer before grabbing a nearby bag and hastily packing up the rest of his equipment. “What about Blake and Sun?” he asked.

“I’ll let them know what’s happened, they’ll meet up with us later,” she said, waving those remaining out in the hall to leave him space to prepare. “A, I’m assuming you don’t mind helping me create a bit of a distraction?”

The sapper looked like she had just been told she’d won the lottery. “How big a distraction?”

“You know I’d never put a limit on your creativity,” Coco said with a wry smile. “You two have a choice,” she said, turning to Weiss and Yang. “Go with Mina and Yatsu, or stay. If you were anyone else I wouldn’t offer options but I don’t have time to deal with dissent. Choose.”

“I’m staying,” Yang said immediately.

“Hell yeah you are,” Aqua said, fist-bumping her fellow warrior.

“Me too,” Weiss said, her voice low and steely.

Coco looked at her, secretly wishing she’d reconsider but knowing she was out of time. “Fine,” she said. “All of you pack your things, give them to Yatsu. After that, come find me for your assignments.”

“Boss!” Yatsuhashi called from his room. “They’re moving!”

Coco nodded. “You heard him, we’re out of time. Go.”

\--

Coco listened as Mina and Yatsu reported that they were almost clear. They were slipping out through the wine cellar they’d found early on in their stay, and had closed the door behind them only moments before the formation of soldiers came within view. Coco watched from a wide window on the top floor as they slowly approached, obviously wary of an ambush. It was lucky they were, their hesitance had gifted her team an extra two minutes; time they desperately needed. 

She was bothered by how empty the streets were, though; they had counted on their neighbors interfering in such an obvious attack by at least calling the police, but it seemed that plan had failed. Either that or they had called and no one was coming, which was far more worrying. Then again, with three of the four Council members compromised she figured she should just be grateful it wasn’t the police themselves staging the attack.

At least a dozen were approaching out in the open, which meant at least another dozen she couldn’t see. Their sensors showed no attempts to scale the sheer cliff on the backside. Wherever they were hiding, they were still going to be forced to approach from the front, weakening the advantage of their superior numbers. She briefly considered telling Aqua to blow them all to hell but remembered her own warning to Jay. Their hastily made plan would have to work. “Is everyone ready?” she asked into her earpiece.

\--

On the ground floor, Yang was finishing a quick tape job on her left hand with a medical kit she’d found. It wasn’t pretty but it should keep her bones in one piece. She ripped off the last strip and set the roll aside, then jammed her fingers through the slots in her trusty brass knuckles. Aqua strolled in, tossing her a pair of black tactical pants. “What are these for?” Yang asked, catching them and looking at them skeptically.

“I noticed metal buttons on your jeans,” she replied. “Unless you want to have a bit of a wardrobe malfunction, you need to change and make it fast. Lose the jacket, and never mind those brass knuckles.”

Yang closed her fist protectively, then relaxed it. “Why?” she asked, complying despite her question.

“Shit,” Aqua said rather than answering. “Your arm. What’s it made of?”

“Mostly ceramic and kevlar.”

“What else?”

Yang tapped her knuckles. “Tungsten carbide, otherwise titanium and a bunch of carbon fiber.”

The sapper chewed her lip, checking an internal reference. “The circuits hardened?”

“Yes,” Yang answered, changing her pants on the spot, too rushed to worry about modesty.

“You should be fine then.”

“Should be?” she asked, tucking the overly long pant legs into her boots as she jammed her feet back in them.

Aqua offered her a crooked smile. “Yeah, you should be.”

“Great,” Yang deadpanned.

As she finished lacing her boots her earpiece crackled to life. “Is everyone ready?” Coco asked.

“Yeah boss, we’re ready to go,” Aqua responded, tossing Yang a wink as she turned toward the rear door. “Heading out now.”

\--

“Weiss, how are we looking?” Coco asked, watching as the troops made their final approach down the block, only a few hundred yards off.

“Still no one coming up the cliffs,” she replied, pausing as she flipped through various feeds. “Nothing else on sensors besides those twelve coming in.”

“Are you sure?” Coco asked.

“I didn’t sign up to be tech support, so no, I’m not sure,” Weiss snapped.

“Easy there, Schnee. I didn’t put you there as punishment, someone has to watch our backs.”

“You’re right, you’re right. I’ll keep looking.”

“Thank you,” Coco said.

A few tense moments later the first soldiers were within spitting distance of the gate. Coco was getting antsy, she was sure they could see her from there, but she hadn’t gotten the call yet. Just before she could prompt her, Aqua came on the line. “Alright boss, we’re in position. Remember, I need them looking up.”

“Showtime,” Coco muttered to herself, throwing the large glass door wide and strutting out onto the balcony. “Well, hello!” she cried, throwing her empty hands wide as though welcoming the attackers to a dinner party. The sun was blocked by the house behind her but there was still enough light that she was completely exposed. As one, twelve gun barrels raised to draw a bead on her. “I don’t recall inviting guests,” she called, intentionally keeping her tone casual to throw them off. “If I had known you were coming I would have prepared something nice for you.”

“Keep your hands where we can see them!” one of the mercs called. “Tell the rest of your people to come out the front door, single file, and lay facedown on the ground.”

“And why would I do something like that?” Coco responded.

“If you don’t comply in five seconds we will open fire,” the man responded.

“Will you?” Coco asked. “That’s interesting. I assumed you needed guns to shoot someone.”

The mercs stared at each other, baffled by her behavior and oblivious to the whining hum gaining urgency at their feet. They had been so focused on the woman taunting them from above that they hadn’t noticed the metal domes covered in camouflage netting nestled amongst the lush lawn they were treading across. By the time the sound drew their attention, it was too late, and all of their guns were yanked from their hands to cling harmlessly to the nearest electromagnet. After the guns came knives torn from sheaths, while everything that couldn’t pull free shoved the soldiers themselves off balance.

“Now,” Coco said.

Two forms exploded from the perfectly trimmed hedges on either side of the house, Yang’s blonde hair flashing from the right and Aqua’s blue from the left. While they fought the sudden mutiny of their own gear, the squad found itself beset by fists from one side and wooden clubs from the other.

\--

“Now,” came the order.

Yang sprang from her hiding spot, sprinting the dozen or so yards between where she’d been and the nearest struggling enemy. As she got within range of the first magnet she felt a slight tingle along her arm, almost like an itch, and the faintest tug. But Aqua had been right, she was fine, and it wasn’t nearly as bad for her as it was for those burdened by spare ammunition and no doubt metal-plated body armor.

The yellow of her arm flashed in the slanting rays of the setting sun as she dispatched the first opponent without even breaking stride. She tried not to think about what would happen if the traps failed, but the image of being surrounded by armed and armored killers while she fought them off in a tanktop was not a pleasant one. Her second target tried to put up a fight, but the constant pull of his vest made his haymaker clumsy and easy to avoid. A quick right hook landed with a crunch on his jaw and sent him spinning to the ground.

Two on her side had been knocked out before she arrived. Whether it was from flying weapons or their helmeted heads connecting with the magnets themselves she wasn’t sure and didn’t exactly have time to check. The final two had managed to pull off their vests and were circling toward her, one holding a knife that looked like some kind of black stone or glass.

“Who the fuck carries an obsidian knife?” she asked in disbelief as the man smirked.

“The man who’s going to kill you,” he said, flipping it into a reverse grip and charging in.

His partner used the distraction to swing in from behind, grabbing her left wrist and wrapping his arm around her throat. Yang ignored him, knowing she had at least a handful of seconds before his chokehold would cause a problem, and reached out to catch the knife hand of the one who really worried her.

She stopped his strike with the blade mere inches from her eye. Its center was perfectly black, so intensely so, in fact, that it seemed to absorb light rather than reflect it. The edge was finely honed to the point that it was translucent and glowing with the sun’s light; Yang vaguely remembered hearing that obsidian was sharp enough that it didn’t cut through cells, it separated them from each other, that’s why they made for good scalpels. Horribly brittle though.

Without letting go of his hand she extended her thumb, resting it on the flat of the blade. An effortless twitch snapped the blade off at the grip, then she smiled and crushed the hand holding it. The man cursed and swore, thoroughly distracted as she reached up and grabbed the wrist that was wrapped around her throat. She found no resistance in removing it. Apparently watching her pulp his friend’s hand was motivation enough for her other opponent not to test her. She spun out to face him, squaring up gamely. He didn’t back off, but he was watching her right hand with such open terror that she couldn’t help herself: she knocked him out with a sharp left uppercut to the jaw that he never saw coming. Almost as an afterthought she spun and delivered a roundhouse kick to the head of the still shouting man with the shattered hand, putting a stop to his yelling and dropping him like a rag doll.

She shook out her hand and turned to check on Aqua, but with her short wooden clubs, the woman had had no trouble dispatching her six. “Mine count more because I didn’t use a weapon,” Yang called over to her.

“Bullshit,” the sapper replied. “I don’t have a fancy bionic arm.”

“Fine, let’s call it even.”

The pair laughed their disbelief at how well the plan had gone, but they were cut off as they heard the sharp report of gunfire from further down the block. As they ran back to the house for cover Yang spared a look over her shoulder to see another wave of mercenaries marching down the street. “Lucky those magnets were still on,” she said as they dove inside the front door.

“Yeah, it must have pulled their shots low, that could have been bad,” Aqua agreed.

As quickly as it began, the gunfire ceased, and a moment later they peered out to see several mercenaries, stripped of their armor and weapons, charging across the lawn.

“Hey assholes!” a voice called out from the top floor. “Did you forget about me?”

\--

Coco saw the second wave coming, saw them preparing to cross the magnetic barrier, and knew it was time to try out the toy Jay had left her. Hauling it up into position she couldn't help but smile. “Hey, assholes! Did you forget about me?”

Those that looked up immediately dove for cover, while the others soon found themselves face to face with a curtain of bullets spewed forth from the rotating barrel of a minigun. Coco drew a line in the yard. She could easily kill them all with a single twitch of her wrist, and it was tempting. Instead, she forced them back, giving the others a chance to rest. She chewed the beautiful lawn into mulch with her spray of fire, but she preferred to see it as contributing to the local economy. Some landscaping company was about to make a fortune. 

Much more quickly than she’d expected the attackers pulled back, grabbing their fallen comrades as they retreated. “Is that it?” Yang asked over the comms. “Did we win?”

“No,” Coco said, her eyes narrowing as she tried to figure out their next move. “Weiss, talk to me.”

“I…I don’t know,” she said, her hesitation far from reassuring. “I don’t see anyone else approaching.”

As she said that Coco heard a sound that made her heart sink. “Do we happen to have any cameras that point up?” she asked, craning her neck as a dark shape passed overhead.

“No, why?”

“Because we’re about to get fucked.” In the space between her next two heartbeats the underside of the airship circling overhead lit up, and the remaining greenery on the lawn was torn to shreds. “Aqua, report!” Coco snapped, already knowing the answer.

“They’re gone,” she replied. “They barely had to aim, the magnets pulled the bullets in. Now they’re scrap and we’re sitting ducks.”

Coco cursed under her breath but paused to check her scroll when she felt it vibrate. “That’s ok, Mina just let me know that she and Yatsu are clear, so we’re good to fall back. You three head out, I’ll hold them back from up here.”

“Boss, no, we all go together-”

“Not a discussion Aqua, you’re on point, take care of the greenhorns, I’ll-fuck!” she cried, diving back into the house as the airship opened fire on her. One look back showed her that her minigun was toast, along with most of the balcony. “Scratch that, I’ll meet you downstairs!” she said, scrambling out of the room. “Weiss, is the path from the wine cellar clear?”

“Hold on…yes-wait!” she cried. “No no no, there are six more trying to break open the door from the outside, wine cellar is a no go!”

“Gods dammit,” Coco said, already halfway down the stairs. “Aqua!”

“On it, boss,” the sapper replied calmly. A moment later the house shook on its foundation and a muffled rumble could be heard echoing from the basement. “That was a small fortune of wine I just fragged, but they won’t be getting into the house from there.”

“We’ll be sure to have the owner put it on our tab,” Coco said as she came to a halt on the second-floor landing, looking down at the expectant women waiting for her on the ground floor.

“Barricade the door, and tell me you have other surprises waiting.”

“I’m insulted that you even have to ask,” Aqua said as she and Yang slid a heavy shelving unit over in front of the front door.

“Good. Weiss,” she said, leaning over and calling into Yatsu’s old room. “I don’t suppose the back door is clear?”

“No.”

Coco nodded. “Just thought I’d ask. Leave everything where it is, we’re headed up.”

“Up?” she asked, striding out into the open stairwell.

“Nowhere else to go,” Coco said, flinching as the front door shook from a heavy blow. “Besides, I can’t think with these assholes making so much noise.”

Coco and Weiss began to climb, Yang and Aqua following after they stopped to pick up their discarded gear. Coco wasn’t sure what surprises Aqua had tucked away in the many pockets of her jacket, but she hoped they were enough. A crunching sound from the front door made her wince. She wasn’t about to say it out loud but the way things were going, she wasn’t sure anything was going to be enough.

When they reached the third floor the front door gave, and Aqua dropped a handful of oblong spheres down the stairwell. There was a popping noise as they landed, followed by a hiss as thick clouds of smoke billowed out and filled the stairwell. Yang raised an eyebrow at the sapper and she shrugged. “May as well not make it easy on them.”

“That’s my girl,” Coco said from half a level above. “What else you got for me?”

“Check this out,” she replied, pulling out her scroll and speaking softly into it. “Hey, over here.”

A second later they heard her voice loudly repeated from somewhere below. Apparently, the mercenaries heard it too, and one of them called a couple of her squadmates over through the smoke. “I think heard something,” she explained.

Aqua counted off some predetermined interval in her head then pressed another button on her scroll. This one triggered a blast of light and a deafening pop from the same general location as her voice had emanated. “Flashbang,” she announced proudly when the others looked at her. “They won’t be a problem for a while.”

“Any chance you can detach the stairs from the top floor?” Coco asked as they hustled upward.

“Not without bringing the whole place down.”

“Fair enough, though it’s good to know that’s an option.”

“Hold on,” Aqua said, knocking a painting aside and reaching into a recessed shelf behind it, producing a compact rifle and a handgun.

Coco pursed her lips, then accepted the grip of the pistol. “These are for emergencies only, got it?”

Aqua cocked her eyebrow while she checked the magazine on her rifle. “I hate to say it, boss, but I think this is an emergency.”

Coco didn’t respond beyond a frown as she led them up the final, narrow staircase into the library, locking the door behind them and pointing to the heavy reading table to indicate that Yang and Aqua should shove it in front of the door. They did, and she paced, running through her quickly dwindling options.

Weiss reached out and stopped her. “Tell me that this isn’t your whole plan.”

“Of course not,” Coco said. “Yang, any chance you could ask your mom to call off her men?”

Yang snorted. “Even if she was here I’m not sure that would work.”

“Ok, on to plan b: we wait for a miracle.”

“Not really going to count on that, boss,” Aqua said. “Is there a plan c?”

“We stand and fight,” Coco said, cocking her pistol with a resigned air.

“I’m sorry, did someone call for a miracle?” a voice chimed in over the radio.

“Mina?!” Coco cried. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“You mean besides saving your ass?”

Coco shook her head. “And disobeying orders.”

“Yeah well, feel free to fire me when we get out of this,” the pilot snarked.

“How are we going to do that? There’s an airship overhead, and last I checked you aren’t equipped for a dogfight.”

“Indeed I am not,” Carmina agreed. “But I can draw him off so you all can get out. Make a break for the cliff behind the house, there’s an exit there.”

“Wait, how are you going to draw the ship off?”

“Don’t get jealous, but I’m going to give him a bit of a kiss.”

Coco’s face went white. “Mina, don’t you dare.”

“Too late-“ she called. From directly above them they heard the disconcerting groan of metal on metal. “Haha! take that you merc bastard!” Mina whooped. “Ok, I definitely have his attention, time for me to get the hell out of here. I highly recommend you do the same.”

“Mina you’re unbelievable, when I see you I’m going to either kill you or kiss you; be safe.”

“No promises, now leave me alone so I can fly.”

“Ok, new problem,” Coco said to the crew in the library. “We need to get to the cliff.” As though to punctuate her statement a deep thud sounded from the door. “Not that way,” she added.

“The skylights,” Aqua said, looking up. “We can hop from the roof down to the balconies. Easy.”

“How easy?” Weiss asked, her eyes narrowing as her sharp ears picked up something out of place.

“Pretty easy, why…?” the sapper said, trailing off as she heard it as well: footsteps. Above them. “Gods dammit!” she said, training her rifle upward, swinging it wide arcs as she tried to pinpoint their location.

“Aqua, no!” Coco said, reaching out and pushing the barrel of the gun down. “We don’t want to start a-“

‘Firefight’ was what she was about to say, but the word was lost amidst the sound of breaking glass and thudding boots landing on the wooden floor and shouts to put their hands in the air. Aqua snarled but at a look from Coco dropped her weapon, raising her hands as they were surrounded by the heavily-armed figures who had just dropped in through their last hope of escape.

“Search them,” the apparent leader of the squad said. The intruders did as they were told, patting down each of the women. Aqua’s entire jacket was taken when the soldier frisking her got tired of pulling out explosives, while Coco was relieved of her sidearm. “Watch that one,” the leader said, speaking to the soldier going through Yang’s pockets. “She crushed Simpson’s hand like an egg.” Yang smiled innocently as the woman fishing through her pockets looked up at her with wide eyes.

The man who was supposed to be searching Weiss had stopped and pulled back. “Holy shit,” he said. “Captain, this is that Schnee girl.”

“What?” the leader demanded, spinning to have a look and then laughing. “Fucking hell, it is. Looks like our days just got even better.”

As he spoke, another soldier had pushed the table aside and opened the door, revealing three more troops in the smoky stairwell, awaiting orders. “Alright ladies,” the merc captain said, picking up Coco’s pistol and holding to her temple. “If you behave we’ll all get along just fine. If you don’t, I’ll splatter this one’s brains on the wall and pick a new dance partner. Do we understand each other?” They all nodded silently, each one staring daggers at their captors. “Good. Now let’s go.”

\--

The captain stepped forward, pushing Coco one step ahead with the barrel of the gun against her head. Yang watched Aqua turn at the insistence of her own captor, and at the same time felt the nudge of a muzzle in the small of her back. She glanced back, steeling her face when she saw what no one else had.

The highly-trained mercs were watching the obvious threats closely, but no one thought to watch the prissy heiress bringing up the rear, not even the one whose job it supposedly was. He was probably too busy dreaming up ways to spend his reward money, so he didn’t even realize she’d moved until she’d whirled behind him and pressed a knife tight against the flesh of his neck. He never had a chance to make a sound, so no one else looked back, not until Weiss had already whispered her orders into the quaking man’s ear.

“Uh…Captain?” he said, swallowing carefully as the tip of the knife graze his adam’s apple.

“What?” the captain demanded, turning around and pulling back when he found himself face to face with the barrel of a gun. “What in the hell-“

“It’s very simple,” Weiss explained, only the corner of one eye peeking out from behind her hostage. “If I tell him to shoot, you die. If he refuses, he dies.”

“And if you don’t let him go she dies,” the Captain snapped, jostling Coco bodily.

“You have gravely misjudged this situation,” Weiss said. “I don’t care about anyone in this room except for myself. So if you’d like to continue breathing, I suggest you drop your weapon.”

“You can’t kill all of us,” the Captain said, his smirk faltering somewhat.

“Perhaps not,” Weiss admitted. “But I can certainly kill you.”

Yang watched the show with growing unease. The way Weiss had turned the tables was amazing, and her bluff had bought some time, but it wasn’t going to be enough. She glanced over at Aqua, but the woman shook her head. No, they couldn’t take everyone, even Yang had to admit that. Each of them could take their own guard but the three by the door were too far, had too clear a shot. Yang let her eyes wander over to the door, and fought to keep her composure. It seemed that two of the mercs in the entryway had wandered off, leaving just one. This was as good as it was going to get.

Aqua furiously shook her head when she saw what was happening, but sprang only an instant after Yang had lunged for her guard’s weapon. With a single crushing squeeze, she rendered it useless, then with a quick backhand rendered the woman unconscious. Aqua took a moment longer, and the commotion drew the captain’s attention. “Stop!” he ordered.

“Don’t move!” Weiss countered, leaning into her blade a little.

Yang turned and saw the last threat rushing into the room, drawing his rifle on her as he did. It was point-blank, no chance of missing, but before he could squeeze the trigger a figure emerged from the billowing smoke pouring through the door and struck him across the back of the head with a familiar billy club. “Blake?” Yang asked incredulously as the soldier fell to the floor at her feet.

“Enough,” the captain hissed, shoving Coco away and turning toward the newest threat, leveling the pistol directly at her.

Yang saw his intention immediately and felt everything slow to a crawl. Blake was so close, stuck in place as she stared, bewildered, at the gun settling on a perfect line from the angry eyes of the captain to the bridge of her nose. Aqua and Coco were on the far side, too far to stop him. Weiss was watching in horror from behind her hostage. Yang’s hand pushed through the air, suddenly thick as molasses, reaching for Blake before the woman’s eyes could even widen at her impending death. After what felt like an eternity, she found purchase, and yanked the frozen woman into a tight embrace, wrapping her head and shoulder around her and only barely thinking to raise her arm as she put herself between Blake and the gun.

An explosion split the air inches from her head. In the same instant, she heard an impotent thud as the bullet impacted on the unnecessarily hard plating of her arm. The stunned captain gaped, trying to make sense of what had happened, but Aqua was already moving, grabbing the barrel of the gun before delivering a vicious left cross that put him down. Weiss’s guard simply surrendered; apparently, seeing his whole crew dismantled so quickly by a mostly unarmed team, including one that could block bullets, was enough to convince him that there was a time to accept when one was beaten.

\--

Then everything was quiet. Blake pulled her face from where it had been buried in Yang’s shoulder and looked around in shock. It would be several hours before her mind stopped replaying that terrifying moment. Between that and the heady rush that came with being so close to Yang again, she was completely dazed. Coco tried to get her attention but gave up when she saw that it was no use, and went to check the hallway. It was only when Blake felt the hand she was holding in both of hers begin to shake that she snapped back to the present.

“Are you ok?” she asked, noting that her voice sounded odd and muted beneath a dull ringing sound. Yang simply shook her head, pointing at her ear. Of course, she likely wouldn’t be able to hear at all for a few minutes. Blake reached up and cupped her cheek, glancing down at the trembling hand and then back up in concern.

Yang froze, caught wide open for a moment as she allowed herself to be held. She leaned in, just a hair, her eyes fluttering closed. Then a tremor ran through her body and her eyes snapped angrily open as she jerked away. Suddenly the ringing in Blake’s ears sounded more like a gate slamming shut. “I’m fine," Yang said, her voice far too loud as she pulled back and stomped out after the others.

Blake couldn’t bring herself to be too hurt. She knew what she had seen in Yang’s eyes, and it certainly wasn’t hate. As she watched her stride out into the hallway and down the stairs the moment flashed through her head again: the gun, the sudden lurch to the side, the way she was enveloped in a lover’s embrace as Yang shielded her. The odd sound as the bullet found an unyielding surface. All of it played out in slow motion in her mind, like some sort of violent ballet.

“Blake, we have to go,” Aqua said, stirring her from her trance.

She shook herself. “Right.”


	27. Out of the Frying Pan

The crew hustled their way through the smoke-filled house, stepping over the unconscious mercenaries Blake had left in her wake. As they burst into the back yard they were greeted by three more, Sun standing over their prone and bound forms. “Come on,” he said when he saw them. “This way.”

“Are there more coming?” Coco asked as they jogged toward the cliff.

“Mina saw another squad while she was overhead, and that airship will be back eventually,” he replied, leading them to a cluster of three sturdy, metal spikes that had recently been driven into the rocky soil. Coils of rope sat next to each and were firmly affixed at one end. Sun grabbed two and tossed them over the low wall that abutted the cliff, Aqua following suit with the last.

“Sorry that this is less than ideal, but no time for harnesses,” he said, reaching into the pack in his back and handing out gloves and small mechanical devices. “Clamp that on,” he explained when Weiss looked at hers curiously. “Squeeze the handle to brake.”

Her blue eyes went wide. “You want me to swing down this thing with no harness?” she asked, peering over the edge.

“It’s only a hundred feet or so to the top of the building below, it should be fine,” he said.

“Should?!”

Coco shrugged. “It’s this, or wait for the mercs to come and pick you up.” Weiss glared at her.

“Relax and come with me,” Aqua said, guiding her over to the first spike. “We’ll go together, I won’t let anything happen to you.” Her tone was perfectly even, almost hypnotic, and Weiss followed silently, her jaw set as she put on her gloves and straddled the rope with her back to the cliff, as instructed. Aqua was directly behind her, and after murmuring a few soothing words she guided Weiss onto the wall and over the edge before she had a chance to think about it.

“You three get going,” Sun said, watching the slow descent of the others. “I’ll keep watch up here.”

Coco narrowed her eyes at him, then she nodded as she understood. “Come on,” she said, waving Blake and Yang over and straddling the nearest rope. She stepped out over the edge and felt a sickening wave of vertigo. Coco had never had a problem with heights, but it occurred to her as her body went from vertical to horizontal that what she was doing was monumentally stupid. Fortunately, she lacked the luxury of time to think too hard. Instead, she trusted her legs and hands and pushed off the wall, tracing lazy arcs down the side of the cliff and listening to the whine of her brake on the rope. A glance to the side left her seriously envying Yang and her infallible arm, especially when her own quite fallible arms began to shake with the effort. Not that she was going to let anyone see her strain, naturally.

Five sets of feet touched down on the roof and Coco gave several sharp tugs on each rope. Shortly after, all three were cut loose from the top and fell in heaps in front of them. “How exactly is he planning to get down?” Yang asked, holding up one of the severed ropes.

“Same way he got up, I imagine,” Coco said, looking over at Blake for confirmation.

She nodded. “Mina dropped me off on our level but left him down here so he could sneak around back and secure an exit. He free-climbed up.”

“While you swept in like a vengeful spirit and got us out,” Coco remarked.

Blake smirked. “I was hoping there’d be smoke, that was quite helpful.”

“You’re welcome,” Aqua chirped.

A small shape appeared on the cliff face above as they spoke, and the crew watched and fretted as Sun painstakingly found the handholds that had led him up. Once he got moving his progress was quick, probably frighteningly so for those who had never seen him climb. After what felt like both an eternity and an instant he reached the level of the roof, finishing his exhibition with a showy backflip that landed him amidst the onlookers staring up at the rocky wall he’d just scaled. “Quite a view, huh?” he said.

“Showoff,” Coco replied, patting him on the shoulder. “Don’t do that again, ok?”

“What, save your life or…?”

She rolled her eyes in reply and made her way across the roof to the door that led down into the building. “I’m assuming you don’t mind if we take the stairs the rest of the way?” she asked.

“I mean if you want to be boring, I guess that’s fine,” Sun said, shaking out his arms and flexing his fingers. “I’ll follow you, but not because my arms feel like overcooked spaghetti.”

“Of course not.”

They picked their way to the street, their silent progress broken by Coco’s buzzing scroll. “It’s Mina,” she explained. “The merc shipped stopped following her, she assumes it peeled off to come back for us.”

“Good thing we won’t be there, huh?” Sun remarked.

“Indeed,” she agreed. “Just in case, let’s split up. Stay under ledges and canopies as much possible, and find your way to the hideout. Yang, you’re with me. Aqua, take Weiss. You two,” she said, pointing at Blake and Sun. “Keep an eye on us from a distance, make sure we aren’t followed.”

“Right,” Blake said as Sun chipped in “You got it.”

Coco gave them a clipped nod. “Good.”

\--

It took a few cautious hours, but Yang and Coco eventually made their way down the mountain to the safehouse. As far as Yang could tell, it was just past halfway, an old general store with boarded-up windows and a generous basement. The kind of place that's initially an eyesore in a neighborhood but, as time goes on and no one comes in to claim it as their own, fades into part of the scenery. A particularly ugly part of the scenery, but still. Then, by silent consensus, it’s willed into invisibility.

This particular invisible building had a boarded up ground-floor that hadn’t been improved much by its new tenants: dusty old shelves slumped in neat rows, long empty and attached to the ceiling by a myriad of cobwebs, graffiti crisscrossed the walls where some aspiring artist had broken in and left her mark, scattered trash littered the floor from squatters who’d passed through. As they approached, Coco explained to Yang that the only additions they’d made were a series of locks and sensors to let them know if anyone else was trying to trespass. All the good stuff was in the basement.

Coco knocked heavily on the back door while Yang glanced around the darkened alley warily. A moment later they heard steps on stairs within, followed by the sound of several bolts being undone.

“I’m so glad to see you,” Yatsu said as he ushered her and Yang in, securing the door behind them. “Aqua and Weiss were a few minutes ahead, they’re downstairs.”

“Good, any signs that we’re compromised?”

“No. You want to see our new digs?”

Coco hesitated. “I’m just going to wait for everyone else.”

As if on cue, three heavy knocks landed on the door. Coco flipped up the small panel covering the video screen that showed the other side, pulling open the door when she saw Sun and Blake waiting there. “Where’s-“ she began to ask before being cut off by Yatsuhashi’s chuckle.

“I was trying to tell you, boss,” he said with a knowing smile. “Mina’s already downstairs.”

Coco flushed so hard that even in the dim light her cheeks visibly glowed. “Right,” she said, before turning stiffly and taking the stairs down toward the basement, Yatsu close behind.

Yang and Blake considered each other silently. “I’m…uh,” Sun said, desperately searching for an excuse to make himself scarce. “I’m going to go scope out the food situation.”

He all but flew down the stairs, leaving them alone in the wreckage of the shop. The silence stretched for a moment, threatening to break and force them to confront the maelstrom of emotion that swirled between them. Before it came to that Blake stepped forward, reaching out and taking Yang’s right hand in both of hers. “Thank you,” she said. “You saved my life.”

“You saved me first,” Yang said quietly, a half-smile playing on her lips.

The next moment was a blur. Yang couldn’t say exactly what happened or who moved first, all she knew was that when she regained her senses she was completely entangled with Blake, their lips pressed together in a long, deep, kiss.

“You two coming, or what?” Aqua called up the stairs, breaking the spell as various voices tried to hush her. “I mean, never mind!”

But the moment had passed, and the two parted awkwardly. “I uh…I’m glad you’re ok,” Yang said, unable to meet Blake’s eyes.

“Yang,” she pleaded. “Please, talk to me.”

But it was too late, the anger and fear and pain were building and Yang was doing the only thing she knew worked: she was pushing it all aside and rebuilding her hard facade. “I…” she began, but the last sliver of her vulnerability was sealed away before she could finish. With nothing more to say she shrugged and walked away, taking the stairs two at a time to rejoin the others.

\--

The basement was a single open space with peeling plaster for walls and a low, concrete ceiling. Shabby couches and chairs had been dragged in, likely scrounged from nearby dumpsters, and the crew was sprawled across them, talking and laughing with relief at their close call. A few rows of neat little cots were set up in the corner and much of the rest of the room was filled with gear: piles of bags and crates and folding tables covered in various electronics. One had been cleared to make room for stacks of pizzas that someone had ordered and had quickly been picked nearly empty by the famished group. Coco glanced up as Blake followed Yang down the stairs, both of them looking distant. By her estimation, however, that was a vast improvement from how things had been, so she counted it as a win. They silently joined the rest in the half-circle of ragged furniture, wordlessly finding seats on opposite sides of the group as Coco stood up to face everyone.

“I know it’s not as fancy as our previous location,” she began.

“We could probably fix it up with a few cans of paint, and maybe some TNT,” Aqua quipped.

“Yeah, yeah,” she replied. “I’m just glad we all made it out.”

“I’d drink to that!” Jay declared.

Coco laughed. “Me too, did anyone grab beer along with this pizza?”

Mina stood up with a mischievous grin. “I’ve got something a little better,” she said, all but skipping across the room to the ancient refrigerator humming in one corner. She returned brandishing a large bottle.

“Where did you get that?” Coco asked in disbelief.

“You said grab everything we could, and it was right there while Yatsu and I were sneaking out…”

Coco shook her head. “You are unbelievable,” she said. “I don’t suppose you grabbed champagne flutes to go with it?”

She shook her head and Yatsu handed over a stack of plastic cups sheepishly. “Will these work?”

“I’m about to drink the nicest champagne I’ve ever tasted out of plastic cups in a filthy basement,” Coco said, sighing melodramatically. “But I suppose that’s fitting, and I can’t imagine sharing it with a better crew. Pop that shit!”

Mina complied with gusto, sending the cork zipping across the room and only just catching the flow of suds with the first cup handed to her. When the bottle had been depleted and everyone had a cheap cup of expensive champagne Coco held hers aloft.

“Speech!” Sun called out, much to the delight of all as they quickly took up the chant.

“Alright, alright,” Coco said, quieting them with her free hand. “How about a toast?” When she wasn’t shouted down she sought her first targets. “To Ivy and Hark,” she said, raising her cup to each. “Without you two we’d be running blind and aimless. Today may not have been your fight, but you’re the ones who are going to be key to us winning this thing.”

“To Ivy and Hark!” the group chorused.

“To Yatsu,” Coco said, turning toward the big man. “For giving us enough time to get the fuck out. We trusted you with our lives, and you came through in a big way.”

The group raised their glasses, slapping his broad back and thanking him for saving their asses.

“Jay!” Coco said.

“What?” he asked, looking around. “I didn’t do shit.”

“Oh, but you did,” Coco said. “You, of all the people here, actually followed a godsdamned order. Thank you.”

Jay laughed along with the rest. “I try to set a good example,” he said.

“Keep it up,” Coco said, turning to Mina, who was suddenly very interested in the contents of her cup. “Speaking of which,“ she said. “Here’s to the best pilot in all four kingdoms, who unlike our star pupil, seems incapable of following orders.”

“I saved your life-!”

“Hm,” Coco said, as though considering this for the first time. “I suppose you did.” With that, she swept the pilot up in a one-armed hug and planted a long kiss on her smiling lips. “Thanks for that,” she said when they parted amidst whistles and cheers. “But let’s not forget our other insubordinates,” she called out to the room. “To Sun and Blake, who were explicitly told to stay away and meet up at the hideout, and did exactly the opposite of that.”

“We got here eventually!” Sun protested.

“Yes, after you free climbed a rock face to plant us an escape route and Blake ghosted, what, four armed assailants?”

“Five,” Blake corrected, rubbing the back of her neck as Coco looked at her sharply.

“I stand corrected,” Coco said, her glare softening. “Thank you both for disobeying a direct order. You saved our lives.”

“To Sun and Blake!” everyone cheered.

When they had quieted Coco turned to the couch where those who had originally stayed behind had clustered. “To Aqua. No one creates havoc like you do. I wish I had a picture of those asshole’s faces when you turned on the magnets.”

The tall sapper grinned. “It was pretty awesome, wasn’t it?”

“It was,” Coco agreed. “I’m glad you’re on my side.” Everyone vociferously agreed to that. “Speaking of on our side: to our newest members! When shit hit the fan you two stepped up. First of all, while we were all frozen with guns to our head Ms. Schnee here actually did something about it.”

“People have a habit of underestimating me,” Weiss replied with a sly smile.

Coco nodded her agreement. “I promise never to make that mistake, not after what I saw. To Weiss!”

“To Weiss!” the rest agreed.

“And last but not least, to the woman I watched face down six mercenaries with her bare hands, and who not only saved Blake’s life but did so by blocking a fucking bullet at point-blank range. To Yang!”

The cheers went on for some time after, eventually giving way to those who had witnessed the remarkable act describing it to the envious ones who hadn’t. When the story had gone around the room a few times Coco held up her hand for silence. “To the best damn team on Remnant kicking some merc ass and living to tell the tale!”

“Here here!” everyone agreed before taking a long drink.

“Alright,” Coco said, nodding her appreciation as she set her cup aside. “No rest for the weary; back to work.” She laughed as she met with boos from the rowdy crew. “Yeah, yeah. Settle down. Blake, Sun, report.”

“Fuck, I almost forgot,” Sun moaned.

“Right,” Blake said, leaning forward. “Oak pushed hard for a declaration of emergency powers granting him the right to declare war, but Aspis shot him down. Since it requires a unanimous vote from the Council, that’s out.”

“So we’re good, then?” Coco asked.

Blake shook her head. “Not quite.”

Hark, always one step ahead, jumped in. “He’s calling for a special election, isn’t he?” When he received nods of confirmation he swore under his breath.

“For a new Council?” Coco asked.

“No,” Hark said, his shoulders slumping as the pieces fell into place for him. “He’s not interested in a new Council, he’s going to push to be declared sole Commander in Chief until such time as the emergency has resolved, as per article 7 of the Mistral Constitution.”

“Nailed it,” Sun replied.

“Fuck,” Coco groaned, beginning to pace. “How long?”

“Aspis claimed he was going to delay as long as possible,” Blake reported.

“How long?” she repeated.

When Blake shrugged her ignorance Hark took a stab. “Three days. That’s the longest he could hold out before Oak can invoke provisions that override him.”

“So it could be sooner,” Coco pointed out.

“No,” Hark said. “Aspis is good, he’ll hold out. Three days. Then the election. Then…”

“War,” Coco finished for him. The room went silent. They had all known the stakes since the Vytal Treaty had been broken, but something about hearing the word pronounced with such finality was sobering. Seeing this, Coco forced a smile. “Lighten up, it’s not the like it’s the end of the world,” she japed. “Besides, we don’t have time to brood. Jay, Aqua, I want you topside. Check the neighborhood; make sure we’re clear. If you even think you see someone looking at our spot funny, report it.”

“You got it, boss,” Jay said, leaping up and heading for the stairs. Aqua groaned as she climbed to her feet and followed, shaking out her tired limbs as she went.

“Yatsu, I need to know how we were found,” Coco stated as they left.

“I saved the recordings from our cameras and sensors, I’ll dig through those and find something,” he replied.

Coco nodded. “Good. Ivy, could you lend him your eyes? Maybe you’ll see something he won’t.”

“Sure thing,” the codebreaker replied seriously, her hands a nervous blur as she stood and followed Yatsuhashi over to his table of gear.

“Hark, come with me. I need you to tell me everything that’s happening in the city right now,” Coco ordered, waving him over toward another table.

“Everything?” he asked as he rose.

“Everything,” she confirmed. “Even things that don’t seem important. I need the whole picture if I’m going to figure out the best way to stop this.”

“What about us?” Sun asked.

“You guys get some rest,” she replied. “You’ll all be plenty busy soon enough. I need you sharp.”

“Can do,” Sun laughed, kicking his feet up on the now empty sofa and laying back.

Weiss stifled a mighty yawn. “I suppose lying down might not be the worst thing,” she said, standing up and looking over at the cots in the corner. “I already miss those big beds though,” she muttered as she made her way over.

“Sorry princess,” Carmina said, heading in the same direction. “Our former accommodations were more the exception than the rule. I hope you can forgive us.”

Weiss laughed, far more at ease with the ribbing than one might expect from her. “I suppose I’ll survive. Somehow.”

\--

Blake watched Yang closely, trying to find an opening to approach her. While everyone else seemed content to lay around, the fighter was pulsing with nervous energy; one of her feet was tapping with increasing urgency while her shoulders bunched and her eyes roved the room as though seeking a target. Blake reached up absentmindedly, touching her lips as they buzzed with the memory of their kiss. After so many months it had felt like coming home, only to be left achingly lost and alone again the instant they parted. It was almost enough to leave her wallowing in the shadow of despair, but some tiny spark refused to abandon her to it. She wrapped her soul around the stubborn ember, feeding it just enough to keep it alight as she watched Yang and her growing agitation. She watched as she got up to pace, wandering the empty reaches of the basement and seemingly looking for meaning in the designs created by the cracked and peeling paint.

Never had there been a woman who more obviously desired to be left alone, but Blake wanted nothing more than to run to her, throw her arms around her, do whatever it took to take away her pent up fear and pain. It was clear that she was shaken, she’d just been shot for gods’ sake, but her guarded stance and constant motion left no room for someone to swoop in and comfort her. Even Blake’s eyes on her were apparently too much, and after several circuits of the room, Yang turned with a huff toward the stairs.

“Where’re you going?” Coco asked, noticing her trajectory.

“Just upstairs,” Yang retorted.

Coco nodded, quick to recognize a losing battle. “Try to stay away from the windows.”

“Sure thing, boss,” Yang said, taking just enough snark off that Coco let it slide as she stomped up the rickety staircase.

\--

The boarded-up space at street level wasn’t much better than the basement, but between the dim light and the still as death air and the lack of anyone staring at her, Yang finally found the space to breathe. Her ears had stopped ringing well over an hour ago, but the sound of the gunshot was still fresh in her mind. It had been so loud and so close that she had felt the heat of the explosion on her cheek. She almost swore she still could. There had been no time to think, no time to consider what she was about to do. Blake’s life had been in danger and she had acted, consequences be damned.

As the sound of the gunshot faded from her mind the magical moment that had followed took its place. In that thunderous silence, Blake had been so close that Yang had felt every contour of her lithe body, the acrid smell of gunpowder shoved aside by the lightly floral smell of the midnight waves of her hair.

Then, later, that kiss.

Yang’s pacing flowed into shadowboxing as she desperately tried to drive the memory away. She hadn’t meant to kiss her, hadn’t wanted to. It was a holdover, like muscle memory, that was all. They had escaped danger, and in a dizzying moment after the adrenaline had drained from her body she had forgotten where they were. When they were.

What Blake had done.

Yang’s blows felled invisible foe after invisible foe as she worked her way down the ruined aisles of the old store, but they couldn’t defeat the flush of warmth on her lips or the remembered curve of Blake’s waist under her hands. Yang’s body refused to accept that her mind was made up, and she felt a longing akin to withdrawal surge through her mutinous limbs.

She gave up on her attempts to tame her passions and slumped down against an old broken ice machine in the corner. It had been so much easier to maintain her resolve when Blake was nothing but a memory, a shadow that haunted her dreams but wasn’t real, couldn’t caress her or set every nerve in her body alight with a single golden glance.

But that was just her body desiring a familiar touch, just chemistry telling her she should ignore her instincts and trust that surely this time, this time it would be different. At the very least it would be fun, her body insisted. The treacherous thing was baiting the trap itself, luring Yang in only to have her heart torn asunder all over again for the chance to feel good for a few minutes…

Yang’s thoughts stopped midstream as she was flung back into her surroundings. Had she heard something? She turned her head, holding her breath and willing her pounding heart to slow and so she could listen. No, there was nothing. The shop was silent and perfectly still; it hadn’t been sound that had alerted her, but another sense entirely, though not one with a name.

“What do you want?” she asked aloud to the only person it could possibly be.

“I’m sorry,” Blake responded, melting out of the shadows. “I just wanted to talk.”

“About what?” Yang shot back.

“About what?” Blake parroted. “What do you mean about what? About us.”

“You’ll have to be more specific.”

Blake stepped over to the shelf opposite where Yang sat and slid down to her level. “We can start with the kiss,” she offered, hoping to lighten the mood.

Yang looked away, but the beginnings of a smile were tugging at her lips. “You mean when you kissed me?”

Blake snorted. “Is that what happened?” she snarked.

“Sure is.”

“Funny, I don’t remember it that way.”

“Yeah well, that’s definitely how it went down,” Yang said. Her heart was a tangle of emotions, each fighting for control with the final victor still very much undecided.

“It’s still your fault,” Blake said. “You were the one that decided to be all noble and take a bullet for me.”

“Block a bullet for you,” Yang corrected. “And it’s your fault for almost getting yourself shot, so…”

“You’re right,” Blake said, her smile falling away. “I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have put yourself at risk for me like that.”

“Old habits die hard,” Yang said, raising her black and yellow hand in the gloom.

“Right…” Blake said, her head falling. “Yang, I’m so sorry,” she whispered.

Yang watched her through the gloom. “For what?”

“For what happened to you. I’m going to make it right,” Blake insisted, furiously swiping a hand across her eyes. “I’m going to stop Adam and make him pay for what he did.”

“And then what?” Yang asked, her tone even and face blank, but Blake rushed on, oblivious to the fact that she was being set up.

“And then we can go back to how things were,” she declared, walking straight into a brick wall of rage.

“Oh, is that what we’ll do?” Yang demanded, red tinting the corners of her vision. “Just go back to normal, pretend everything’s fine, and ride off into the sunset?”

“I mean, no…that’s not-“ Blake stammered.

“You’re unbelievable,” Yang said, climbing to her feet. “I thought…but of course not, of course, you wouldn’t get it,” she ranted, her words fast and nearly incoherent as they mixed with her internal dialogue.

“Yang, please, I’m sorry,” Blake pleaded, reaching up to grasp her hand before she could storm off. “I just want to fix things.”

Yang took a half step but didn’t pull her hand away. “You want to fix things?” she seethed.

“Yes. Please.”

Yang drew a deep breath, and Blake flinched, no doubt anticipating the storm that was about to blow over her, but both were saved by a loud knock at the door. Blake released her hand and they strode to the entrance, checking the monitor and finding Jay and Aqua waiting there. Yang threw the door wide.

“Thanks,” Aqua said as they came in. Looking at Blake’s downcast eyes she asked, “We aren’t interrupting, are we?”

“No,” Yang chirped while Blake nodded and said, “Kind of…”

All three of them exchanged awkward glances while Jay looked on. He threw up his hands. “I don’t know what’s going on,” he said, heading for the stairs. “And frankly, I don’t want to. I’m going to go report to Coco.”

“Yeah, uh…I’ll come too,” Aqua said.

“Actually,” Yang said, throwing her arm around the sapper’s shoulders. “I was hoping you could show me some of your gear. That shit you pulled today was awesome.”

Aqua looked doubtfully from her to Blake, clearly uncomfortable being in the middle of whatever was going on. “Sure,” she said eventually. “Why not?”

Yang glanced back as she and Aqua thumped down the stairs, noting the utter defeat in every line of Blake’s body with a mixture of anger, satisfaction, and gut-wrenching guilt, but she looked away when Blake glanced up and focused on the path ahead.

*** * * * ***

Blake listened as everyone yawned and stretched their way awake, cursing the stiff cots they had battled all night. Only Yatsu seemed well-rested, but that was because he had quickly seen the futility in his tiny bed and sprawled out on one of the dilapidated couches. While everyone else groaned their way into clothes and fought over the only bathroom, he put a pot of water on the hotplate he had rigged up, promising passable coffee when people were ready.

Blake uncurled herself to her feet and joined the others, unsure if she’d slept much at all and still aching from the ups and downs of the day before. She was grateful that everyone seemed too preoccupied to notice her, and while she eagerly awaited the distraction of an assignment, she also found herself trying and failing repeatedly to engage with Yang, each attempt shot down subtly but deftly and leaving her more desperate than ever.

She had little time to dwell on her own failures, however. After a slow start, the pace of the crew rapidly accelerated. Exhaustion was set aside as necessity took its place, and everyone split off to prepare for the coming storm as best they could. Yatsu and Ivy went back to reviewing the sensor data, trying to parse out how they’d been found to know if steps needed to be taken to prevent it from happening again. Carmina and Jay left to check on the status of their ships and pick up some supplies, while Weiss joined Hark and Coco; her knowledge of the various powerful families around Remnant too valuable an asset to be ignored.

Yang was pulled aside by Aqua to go over preparations of various explosives and other hardware that the sapper might want for the upcoming mission; apparently, she’d showed something of an aptitude for it the night before. Blake watched her go, trying and failing to catch her eye before she disappeared in an animated cloud of technobabble. With nothing else to do she agreed to go with Sun and scout the perimeter, promising to check in with Coco periodically and not to take any unnecessary risks.

\--

Yang watched Blake slink up the stairs, trying and failing to catch her eye before she disappeared on another mission with Sun. She cursed herself for avoiding her all morning, but she had been so torn between the desire to apologize and the urge to yell at her that she had panicked, and now she’d missed her chance. Blake disappeared above just as a sharp elbow nudged Yang in the ribs. “You listening? If you aren’t careful this thing could go off in your face,” Aqua pointed out.

“What?” Yang said, shaking her head. “Yeah, sorry. I’m listening.”

The sapper looked on the verge of lecturing her but instead repeated her instructions. Yang listened attentively, and for the rest of the morning did her best to be a star pupil. It wasn’t much of a struggle, Aqua was a patient and thorough teacher, and the gadgets involved were all brilliantly designed and honestly fascinating. Yang enjoyed the work and absorbed it all like a sponge, and by the time Carmina and Jay returned with various packages, including food, Aqua had run her through the assembly, disassembly, and usage of several of her favorite goodies. “I’ll make a sapper of you yet,” she announced proudly as they broke for lunch.

“I suppose there are worse fallback careers,” Yang said.

“There are,” Aqua said, nodding sagely. “And it’s way more fun than being a boring academic.”

Yang rolled her eyes, but couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride. Her mood was brought crashing down, however, when Blake and Sun came down the stairs a moment later, speaking quietly and looking effortlessly close.

“Everyone, grab some food and get over here, it’s time to discuss the plan,” Coco announced, bringing the general buzz of nervous conversation in the room to a sudden halt. After a brief scramble, everyone found their way over to the couches, eager to hear what she’d come up with. “Alright,” she said, pacing back and forth in front of the attentive crew. “The election is definitely on for the day after tomorrow, but other than setting a deadline for us we’re going to ignore it.” This drew a few confused looks so she went on, “There’s not much we can do about it, and even if we could, the key to all of this is Oak. To stop him we need his daughter. Healthy, safe, and out of the White Fang’s hands.”

“Easier said than done, boss,” Jay pointed out.

“Right you are,” she agreed, building momentum based on his objection rather than stumbling. “And to truly succeed we need the doctors too, not just her.”

“Want us to steal the whole building while we’re at it?” Aqua deadpanned.

Coco took a breath. “You going to keep sassing me, or do you want to know how this is going down?” She smiled when Aqua mimed zipping her lips. “Good, here’s how it’s going down.”

\--

Coco outlined the plan, going over it from every angle and emphasizing everyone’s part and how they all fit together. When she finished she proudly placed her hands on her hips. “Any questions?”

“Yeah,” Carmina said, raising her hand like a kid waiting to be called on by the teacher. “Are you insane?”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Coco said. “Anyone else?”

“And we’re doing all of this…tomorrow?” Aqua asked.

“Yup.”

“Cool, cool,” the sapper said. “No, that’s fine. That should be fine. Oh except no, it’s not. How are we supposed to do all this?”

“Ok, it’s a bit of a stretch,” Coco allowed. “But it’ll be that much harder if we sit around and jaw about it. We roll out in eighteen hours, so you’ve got that much time to prepare. Mina, sorry but you’re on call the rest of the day. If anyone needs a ride help them out. Those of you who need a disguise, come see me as soon as possible and I’ll get you squared away. Everyone else, get to it!”

“This is either going to be the best op I’ve ever been part of or the last one,” Jay muttered as he hopped to his feet.

“What was that?” Coco asked.

“Nothing boss, looking forward to it is all.”

“That’s what I thought,” she said with a wicked grin.

It took until nearly midnight, but everyone eventually returned to the hideout and confirmed with Coco that they were ready. Some last-minute adjustments and compromises had to be made, but overall she was feeling pretty confident. “Alright folks,” she announced. “Time to get some shuteye. We’re up with the sun and I want everyone fresh. The world is counting on us.”

“No pressure though,” Sun commented as he tossed himself into his cot.

Coco laughed, allowing just a touch of mania to creep in. “Nope, none whatsoever,” she agreed. “Lights out in ten.” 


	28. Best Laid Plans

Officer Cork was frozen in indecision. The chocolate donuts called to him, but he couldn’t deny the draw of the final maple-glazed over in the corner-

“Mistral PD, how can I direct your call?”

Cork flinched as the big desk sergeant’s voice interrupted his thoughts; how he hated that oaf. When he heard the promise to send a few officers out to investigate he reached into the box and snatched out the first pastry within reach so he could beat a hasty retreat. It was too early to be sent out to tell some kids to quiet down or convince some little old lady that her neighbor’s dog wasn’t intentionally shitting on her flowers.

“Cork, what are you doing right now?” the sergeant called out to his back.

He turned, holding the donut behind his back. “Paperwork, you know how it is…”

The sergeant glowered at him, then shrugged. “Fine, go tell Simmons and Church we need someone to check out a disturbance.” He jotted down the address on a scrap of paper and held it out.

Cork rolled his eyes, hating to be the errand boy, but took the paper, using it to give a mocking salute. As he turned to seek out the poor fools he glanced at the address, dropping his would-be breakfast and grasping it with both hands. It was smack in the middle of a neighborhood he’d been told to keep an eye on. All he had to do was make sure there were no unplanned disturbances there, and Beringer would forgive all of his gambling debts. If he didn't...

Shit.

Cork ran back to his desk and grabbed his partner and fellow gambler, Canter, and hustled him out the door. They raced down to the garage with its fleet of small police cars, more like carts, really, then tore off into the morning sun.

A few blocks from their destination, a faunus man waved them over, spoke a phrase that told Cork he was involved with Beringer, then pointed toward the intersection. Standing around in a small clump were more guys who weren’t visibly armed, but had the air of people who were. Waiting in their midst was a utility cart and a pair of bored-looking technicians, apparently the cause of the call.

Cork and Canter made their way over, shouldering their way through the menacing crowd to the pair of workers. “IDs,” Cork demanded, his partner waiting menacingly behind. He didn’t recognize either of the oddly calm maintenance workers. Then again, he wasn’t exactly chummy with the sewer crawlers. Still, something about them felt off, even if their IDs looked legit. “I didn’t hear nothing about no work order,” he said, handing back the papers.

“You think our boss calls the cops every time he wants a wire fixed?” the woman shot back.

“Your boss got a name? I need to verify this.”

“Be my guest,” the man said, handing over a small card. As Cork took it he realized the man handing it over was huge; he just slouched so much you couldn’t tell at first.

“You should consider a new career,” he said, punching the number from the card into his scroll. “Crawling around in pipes doesn’t suit a bruiser like you.”

He connected the call, and it rang once. “What do you want?” a gruff voice on the other end of the line demanded.

“This is Officer Cork, MPD, is this Mr. Gray, Mistral Power Authority?”

“Sure is, officer. Is there a problem?”

“We have two of your people up on the twenty-third, north side, claiming you sent them out for a repair.”

“I sure as hell did, an hour ago! Are they not done yet?”

“Uh…” Cork stammered, completely at a loss. This was not how things were supposed to go. He was supposed to be the one talking tough. “No, it appears they haven’t started yet.”

“What?! You tell those bums to get to work, pronto. We need that junction fixed yesterday.”

“Will do. Sorry for the holdup.” Cork hung up, looking from his scroll to the workers. His sluggish mind trying to race. It would be a disturbance if the power went out, right? “Well that seems in order,” he muttered. Surely, they’d be in and out quick. No reason to trouble Beringer about something so minor. There was no harm in some routine maintenance. Right? “You two move along. Do what you have to and then get out of here. Understand?”

“Yessir,” the woman replied. Cork thought he heard a hint of sarcasm, but he wasn’t quite sure. Then they were back in their little cart and zipping off, and it was too late for him to call her out.

\--

“Nice work, Jay,” Aqua said into their open comm line.

“I think I make a good boss,” he replied. “Maybe I’ll take Coco’s spot.”

As if summoned, her voice broke over the line. “Fat chance. You in position?”

“Yes, ma’am!” Jay replied. “I found myself a nice rooftop on the perimeter of their patrol with good sightlines. I can see our maintenance crew headed for their destination clear as day with Yatsu hanging out the side of that toy. How do you even fit in that thing to drive, man?”

“With great difficulty,” Yatsuhashi replied as he navigated the maintenance cart through the narrow streets, crunching to a stop when he saw their intersection. “We’re here,” he announced as he and Aqua hopped out and promptly set about placing cones and signs in a tight perimeter that warned of maintenance work in the area. An access hatch waited patiently at the center of it all, and when they were ready Yatsu reached down and pulled it open.

Aqua looked down at the tight space and sighed. “Headed in,” she reported before climbing down the metal rungs the led down the narrow shaft. She didn’t have far to go; utilities in Mistral ran in relatively shallow tunnels due to the difficulty of digging out the rock without destabilizing the tiers. Larger things like primary sewage conduits were all in the central mass of the mountain. Aqua was grateful that at least the tunnel she would be crawling through was dry, but as her flashlight lanced through the darkness of the waist-high opening she decided she would take nasty water if it meant she could at least consider standing up.

“Good, be careful,” Coco responded, her voice crackling a bit.

“Signal’s kind of shit down here,” Aqua called back up toward the circle of light above her. “Toss me the repeater.”

“On it,” Yatsu replied. “Heads up.”

Aqua reached up and snatched the device out the air, setting it right below the rungs of the ladder.

“Check, check,” Aqua said into her radio.

“Sounds good,” Yatsu’s voice replied, coming in over her earpiece this time.

“Ok, here I go,” she said, grimacing at the dark tunnel in front of her. “I hate this part.”

\--

“Alright, once Aqua is in position, we’re up,” Coco announced, sitting in the driver’s seat of another cart they’d secured. This one was for deliveries and came complete with a bed loaded down with two large crates. The cab sat four, including the driver, and was carrying a full complement. Yang was riding shotgun, anxiously looking around the alley where they were currently parked, obviously uncomfortable with their exposed position. Blake watched her from the back, perfectly still as she tried to open her senses to the streets and buildings around them. Being seated next to Ivy was not helping; where Blake was a picture of stillness, Ivy was a display of perpetual, agitated motion.

“I hate disguises,” Ivy complained, her hands dancing across the unfamiliar fabric, pulling at unfamiliar seams and pockets. Her hands continually found their way to the patch on her chest with the logo of Maiden Biotech, a local supply company. The same logo was plastered across the side of their vehicle.

“I know,” Coco replied.

“And pretending to be someone else.“

“I know,” she said, turning to face the fidgeting woman. “And I promised I would never ask you to do it unless…”

“Unless it was an emergency,” the woman pouted.

“Right,” Coco agreed. “And this is about the biggest emergency we’ve ever faced. Besides, we didn’t have time to case the building properly, so we’re going in blind. Yatsu can help us from the outside, but we may need you inside, and no one can do what you can do.”

“Fine,” Ivy relented. “But I still don’t like it.”

“That’s ok,” Coco said with a tight smile as she turned back to look at the street ahead. “You don’t have to.”

“Hey, Ivy,” Yang asked, glancing back. “If you don’t like pretending, how do you maintain a cover?”

“Just because I don’t like to pretend to be someone else doesn’t mean I can’t. Besides, I don’t, really,” she replied with a shrug. “My handler always just told me to start talking about number theory if anyone asked what I did for a living, and it works. People usually stop asking questions after that.”

Yang chuckled. “Yeah, I imagine they do.”

Blake turned her head, trying to tune out the entrancing tones of Yang’s voice. She could feel Coco’s eyes on her in the rearview but paid them no mind. She had schooled her face, like the rest of her body, to perfect stillness, but she could feel her cheeks burning with shame and fury.

As they had all night.

Coco had been diplomatic when she pulled her aside in the dark basement. She had been kind as she explained how the mercenaries had found them, patient when showing Blake the footage she had demanded to see. It took multiple viewings for Yatsu to spot the figure tailing her the first time, and then only because Ivy pointed out that something was odd about the way a particular shadow had moved, but Blake saw it immediately. “No,” she had moaned. “How could I miss that? I…oh gods.” The realization that she had almost gotten them all killed nearly drove her to flee, but Coco had stopped her with a gentle hand on her shoulder. She insisted that mistakes happened, that it had all ended up ok, no real harm done. She promised Blake that no one blamed her, and Yatsu nodded his agreement.

But she was wrong.

Blake blamed herself, and nothing anyone said would convince her otherwise. She had let herself get distracted and nearly gotten everyone killed.

Nearly gotten Yang killed.

So while Coco went on about doing better next time and not letting it get to her, Blake had turned inward, only catching every fifth word or so of what was being said, and what little did reach her ears was garbled as though she were underwater. For a moment she had even feared she truly was, as that would explain the tightness in her chest.

But no, it was just fear closing her throat. Coco had eventually finished her unheard pep talk and Blake had nodded and made the appropriate sounds before withdrawing to her cot where she curled around herself and lay still. No one doubted her when she claimed to have slept like the dead, but if the walls could talk they would have spoken of how her eyes never closed, had hardly even blinked, as they stared fiercely into the flaking paint.

Anger at herself and her failings kept her alert as she sat, like a statue, waiting for their signal. She used it to fuel her senses, expanding her awareness as far as she could, scouring the wind for any hint of a vibration that didn’t belong, that might signal someone following them. All the while she replayed the scene of the man with the gun, leveling it at her head, over and over. Again and again, Yang jumped in front of her. Again and again, the gun went off, and Blake waited to feel that strong form go limp. Guilt gave the memory a new, morbid twist, and as it played out Blake clenched her fists until she felt her nails dig into her palms, telling herself it was to stay focused when really a part of her simply thought she deserved to feel the pain.

She was so on edge she nearly jumped when Aqua’s voice sounded in her ear, managing to keep it to a minor twitch through sheer discipline. It took her an extra beat to parse out that she’s said she was in position.

“Good,” Coco replied, taking a breath before she called role. “Jay?”

“I’m ready.”

“Carmina?”

“Me and Hark are in position. Say the word and we’ll be there in under a minute.”

“Good. Sun?” she said, not concealing her smirk.

“Ha ha, funny boss.”

“Just checking,” she said. “Weiss?”

“I’m on approach,” came her whispered reply. “I’ll have to take my earpiece out soon.”

“That’s fine, just be safe. We’ll call you when it’s time.”

“Don’t worry about me,” Weiss replied.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Coco remarked. “Talk to you soon. Yatsu, how do we look?”

“All good on my end,” he responded calmly.

Coco took a deep breath and brought the little electric motor to life with the push of a button. “Ok team,” she said. “It’s not pretty, it’s not elegant, but this is going to work. Everyone stick to the plan and watch out for each other. You do not have permission to die, is that clear?”

“Gee, thanks boss,” Jay responded.

Coco laughed, light and easy like they weren’t about to storm a heavily guarded facility. “Just want to make sure we’re on the same page,” she said, her tone growing serious. “But don’t forget what’s on the line here, we didn’t come to leave the job half done. So let’s do it.”

\--

“You’re late,” the guard said, barring their entrance to the secondary loading docs. Not everything could be delivered by airship, and the building had a small bay meant for a vehicle just like the one Coco was piloting, but it was surrounded by a high chainlink fence with a booth next to the only gate. The man inside was wearing an anonymous uniform, but it was unlikely that the White Fang would hire some contractor to watch their facility. Between that and the pointed, canine ears perched atop his head, his affiliation wasn’t hard to guess.

Still, all bored guards are the same, and she figured she could bluff her way past this one as well as any other. “Bullshit,” she replied. “I’m right on time. You want the shipment or not?”

“Looks bigger than usual,” he commented. No doubt it did, but Coco wasn’t about to admit that. She was too busy thanking the gods that Hark was never wrong. He had started digging into everything about the building and found that a company delivered equipment and supplies to the building three times a week. The White Fang was learning it took a lot to run a private hospital; that they only had one patient seemed little relief given how great her need was. With a little help from Yatsuhashi, they had pushed the delivery off to the following day but made sure that no notification was sent to the White Fang contact to let them know. Then they sent Sun and Jay to liberate one of their delivery carts and some uniforms, and they were in business. “Got a delivery manifest?” the guard asked.

Coco rolled her eyes and asked Yang to hand it over, slapping the clipboard into the guard’s hand as though he were wasting her time. Coco wasn’t much of an expert in manifests, so she had no idea how convincing it was. But she trusted Yatsu and Hark.

With good reason, it seemed, as the guard gave up after skimming the first few pages and handed it back. “Whatever, pull up to the bay and unload, someone will meet you at the door and show you where to drop it off.”

“Good, we haven’t got all day,” Coco said as she maneuvered off toward the loading dock. She backed the little truck up and the bay door opened, revealing two nervous-looking men: both faunus and both armed. One of them waved her back, holding up his hand when she’d reached the ledge. Coco stopped, turned off the engine, and hopped out. “Morning, fellas,” she chirped.

“You new?” the one who’d waved her in asked, his eyes narrowing.

“Filling in,” Coco said. “Sanders and his crew got pulled off on another delivery.” She shrugged away responsibility for the change, silently thanking Hark for that seemingly trivial piece of intel.

“Alright, we’ll show where you to drop it,” the man said. “Then you leave, got it?”

“Don’t have to twist my arm,” Coco said, hopping up on the loading bay and waving the rest to follow. “I’m not hourly.”

The pair regarded her for a moment then walked back into the loading area beyond the open door. Yang and Blake picked up one of the two crates in the bed of their delivery cart and carried it inside while Coco and Ivy wrestled the second one off, pushing it along on smooth-rolling wheels.

“Through here,” one of the men called, waving them toward a door that led further into the building. On the other side was a small room, hardly big enough to accommodate all six of them and the two crates, but the men didn’t bother opening the door on the far side. Instead, the silent one stepped behind the delivery crew and shut the door. “Time to tell us who you really are,” he said in a gruff voice.

“Aw, come on,” Coco wheedled. “I thought my delivery woman act was pretty good.”

“Maiden Biotech doesn’t send replacement crews. That’s the deal, they know that,” he countered. “Who are you?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Coco said. “All that does matter is that I’m not afraid of the dark.”

Before the men could even look confused the lights went out. While a prolonged fight in the dark would likely have favored the two faunus men, the momentary distraction was all Blake and Yang needed to neutralize both. More importantly, the power outage blinded the security camera peering down at them from the corner. While the guards were dealt with Coco felt around and unlatched the rolling crate.

“About time,” Sun said as he sprung out. “Either of these guys my size?”

“This one,” Blake said, already stripping off his clothes. As she removed articles she passed them to Sun.

When she was done she helped Yang stuff both man awkwardly in the crate that Sun had just vacated, closing and latching the top.

“We good?” Coco whispered.

“Good,” Sun replied, slipping the White Fang mask into place.

“Let there be light,” Coco said.

And there was.

“Careful boss,” Aqua explained in her earpiece. “That was mighty close to staying off long enough to trigger the automatic generators. Remember, short bursts.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, thanks A.”

“Sure thing. I’ve got the remote set up, so Yatsu has the light switch now.”

“Got it,” Coco replied.

Ivy stood from where she’d tucked herself in the corner, looking nervous but taking up her place at the back of the rolling crate. Sun took point, trying to look like he knew where he was going as he opened the door and guided them through. Coco hadn’t been lying when she admitted that the plan was not elegant, but they didn’t have time for elegant. They were going to get in, get the girl and the doctors, get out. With a week or a month to plan, she might have been able to come up with something better, something foolproof, but a day just wasn’t enough time. So now they were abandoning subtlety in favor of something that essentially boiled down to a smash-and-grab.

She thought about the team around her and took heart. They were an odd bunch, brought together mostly by chance, but she had a good feeling about them. Together they could do the impossible. Which was good, as that was approximately what she figured it was going to take.

The next room was for storage, devoid of people but stuffed with shelves of medical equipment. Coco looked around and pointed out the security camera watching from above as she shoved the crate with the two would-be captors into an empty corner. Blake and Yang set down their crate behind a tall shelf, safely out of view of the camera, and opened it. The inside was entirely filled with foam with one exception: a small case that Coco snatched up and flipped open. It contained various gadgets Yatsu had packed for them, namely a little remote connection point that Coco pulled out before snapping the case shut again. Carefully, she peered around the corner of the shelf and saw a cluster of outlets and ports on the far wall.

“Yatsu, I think I found a connection point in the supply room, does that sound right?” she asked into her radio.

“Yeah,” he replied. “Contractors tend to put the same connections in every room, it saves on building costs. Plug me in and let’s see if they wired it up.” 

“We’ve got a camera, mind shutting off the lights?” she asked.

“Sure, ready when you are.”

“Ok,” she said, handing the device to Blake, who nodded. “Now.” Mere seconds later Blake was back at her side, saying it was done. “Yatsu, bring it back up.”

As the lights came back on she waited, grinning when she heard his soft chuckle. “Poor fools hooked it up to the main switch,” he said. “I’m in without even trying.”

“Can you deal with the camera for us?” Coco asked.

“Already on a loop of the empty room.”

“Perfect,” she sighed. “How about finding us a hidden medical suite?”

“Working on it, give me a minute.”

Coco and Sun watched the door and counted the seconds, while Blake paced the perimeter of the room, checking every corner as though an enemy was hidden amidst the dust. Yang stood with Ivy, trying to be a comforting presence for the jumpy woman.

“I think I got it,” Yatsu said after what felt like an eternity. “There’s one link that’s putting out orders of magnitude more data than the rest. If the schematics I pulled are correct and you’re where I think you are…go through the door leading in, down the hall, third door on the left, turn immediately right, and then left again. It will be directly in front of you.”

“Down the hall, third on the left, right then left,” Sun repeated.

Coco nodded her agreement. She hated throwing her people into the unknown, but there was no choice, they couldn’t wait around forever. “Take Blake. If anyone asks, you caught her sneaking around and think she was acting suspicious. If you can reach the room without us we’ll bail out the way we came in, if not, call.”

“You got it, boss,” he said, then looked over at Blake. “Let’s go.”

“Right,” she said, walking through the door just before him, playing the part of the captive.

\--

Sun closed the door behind them, looking around nervously at the empty hall. Almost immediately a door opened straight ahead, and he reached out to wrap Blake’s wrist in a rough grip as they passed the masked White Fang member. Other than a curious glance he paid them no notice, much too busy reading whatever report was in his hands to worry about the odd girl being led along by some guard.

Or so Sun had hoped.

“Hey!” Sun froze in his tracks, cursing himself for celebrating early. Slowly he turned toward around to face his accuser. “Are you new or something?” The man demanded.

“Uh…yeah,” Sun replied, not sure why he was pitching his voice lower. “Just started.”

“And I take it you think this girl is a problem?”

“Well…”

“Take her to the security office, you dunce,” the man said, rolling his eyes and waiting.

Sun hesitated, strongly considering knocking the man out and making a run for it, but was stopped by Yatsu’s calm voice. “It’s the first door on the right,” he whispered.

“Of course, the security office,” Sun said, opening the door Yatsu had indicated. “Thanks.”

“Newbies,” the man muttered with a put-upon sigh, disappearing into another room.

As he pushed Blake into the security office, Sun’s heart sank. He had hoped it would be empty, but a large guard sat at the desk facing the door. His glazed eyes were pointed vaguely at a security feed displayed on a small monitor on his desk. When Sun entered he looked up, sitting up fully when he saw Blake. “What have we here?” he said, looking at her like a dessert tray.

“Found her poking around where she didn’t belong,” Sun replied stiffly, stealing a glance at the monitor just as it showed a very empty storage room.

“Is that so?” the man said. "Was she alone?" Sun swallowed, then nodded. “Hm, we could probably let her off with a warning on any other day, but today, not so much.”

“Why?” Sun asked, cursing his own stupid mouth when the man shot him a look like he was a halfwit.

“The fuck you mean, ‘why’? With everything going on right now? Why? Are you serious?” he shook his head. “Not to mention the power going on the fritz all of a sudden,” he looked around as though expecting the lights to go out at any second, then back at the moron in front of him. “But mainly because the High Leader is here. If he finds out I let someone poke around under his nose he’ll feed me my own balls.” The man drew his heft up and held out his hand. “Give her here,” he said, guiding Blake over to a chair and pulling out two pairs of cuffs. “Sit,” he ordered, pushing her down when she didn’t comply and cuffing each wrist to the back of the chair. “Stay,” he added brightly. Turning to Sun he waved him away. “Get out of here, genius, and try not to trip over yourself where someone might see.”

Sun took one more look at Blake, then walked out into the hallway, cursing silently to himself as he went. When it was clear he risked speaking. “Boss?”

“I heard the whole thing,” came her steady reply. “Keep going, we need to know where the girl is. Blake, sit tight. If you’re moved or something changes let us know, but otherwise we’re just going to have to come back for you. Don’t try anything.”

Sun could hear the tension in Coco’s voice, despite her obvious efforts to sound unfazed. He couldn’t blame her, he was all but visibly shaking at how off the rails things felt already. Blake didn’t reply, of course, but he hoped she would listen. Meanwhile, he strode down the hall, fighting to keep himself from breaking into a jog. He found the door he was looking for and slipped through, shot around the first corner, and pulled up abruptly at the second. He cautiously stepped past the wall and found himself a few strides from a thick door with someone standing in front of it with their back to him. He heard a few high-pitched beeps, then the lock disengaged and the man opened the door and stepped inside. Sun grinned as he caught a glimpse of the room beyond and turned back to the storage room.

Coco came on the comms again. “Jay, report.”

“Same as before, dudes moving around, but no new activity.”

“Aqua?”

“One emergency exit in place, working on the other.”

“Good. Sun, status?” she said. “Sun?” she repeated.

Sun held his breath, waiting until he was sure he was out of earshot of the man and the woman he’d just passed. “Yeah, sorry, I just had to get away from people. I’m headed back.”

With a cautious glance over his shoulder at the empty hall, Sun slipped back into the storage room.

“What did you find?” Coco demanded.

“It’s definitely the place. A White Fang member went in and I caught a glimpse of a hospital bed and a bunch of monitors.”

“Were the doctors in there?” she pressed.

Sun shrugged. “I don’t know, I saw at least one person standing around in scrubs, but I couldn’t go poke my head in.

“Was it locked?” she asked.

“Keypad, I couldn’t see the code as the guy put it in.”

Coco nodded, pacing rapidly. “Ok,” she said, seeming to come to some decision. “Jay?”

His laugh filled all of their ears. “My turn?”

“Non. Lethal. Only,” Coco said, punctuating every syllable.

“But you want me to be loud, right?” he asked.

Coco sighed. “Yes, once you’re ready, I want you to be loud.”

\--

Back in the security room, Blake fought to think rationally through her rage, with little success. Adam was here. Here. She could end it all if she could get to him, and it would be so easy. Coco had told her to stay, to not risk the others. To wait.

Blake hated waiting.

She should be out there helping and protecting her team, not captured and stuck on the sidelines. The sting of nearly getting them all killed was still fresh in her mind, and she refused to force everyone to pick up the slack for her. Besides, if she took Adam down the rest would be a cakewalk. They could just march out of the facility, end the war before it started. Most importantly, Yang would be safe, instead of risking her life and possibly facing him a second time.

No, no more waiting.

She was able to switch off her radio by leaning her head to her shoulder, playing it off as though she were stretching. “You know,” she said, winking at the big man when he turned to look at her. “There might be something in it for you if you just let me go.”

But he just laughed, shaking his head. “I’ve heard that one before, little lady, I’m too old to fall for shit like that. Save it for monkey boy.”

“Fine,” Blake spat, giving up on her ruse and cutting to the chase. “Take me to Adam and I promise he’ll reward you.”

“Oh yeah?” the man mocked. “You someone important all of a sudden?”

“As a matter of fact, I am,” she said, returning his sass. “Go ahead and radio one of his honor guards. Tell them you’ve got Blake Belladonna in custody. See what happens.”

The guard looked at her through narrowed eyes, but reached out and picked up a handheld radio. After a terse exchanged he was told to wait. Then his eyes went wide as Adam’s voice boomed over the line, loud enough for Blake to hear him clearly.

“What is it?”

The guard gaped, looking like he was considering bowing to the little radio for a moment. “S-sir…uh, High Leader. I have…uh…Blake Belladonna here. Sir.”

There was a long pause on the other side. Then Adam’s voice returned, slow and dripping with malice. “Are. You. Sure?”

The big man swallowed. “I…uh. Yes? Sir.”

Blake almost pitied the man; almost. It was too much fun watching him quake in his seat to feel too bad for what she was putting him through. The radio clicked on again. “I’ll be there soon,” Adam growled.

Blake’s mind raced as she tried to plan her next move, and it was only when the first shots rang out overhead that she remembered the others were still carrying out the mission.

Apparently, Adam had left his hand on the button, and she heard him shouting to his guards. “What was that?”

Distantly, Blake heard the unnecessary response: “Sir, we’re under attack.”

\--

Jay had carefully and methodically picked off the guards within a few blocks of his perch, clearing a safe zone for himself with tranquilizer darts before he turned to his baby: a 50 caliber anti-material rifle, the one gun he had saved from before RLIC got kicked out of Mistral. He’d never actually had a chance to use it for an op, and he felt a thrill go through him when he pulled back the cover that had been hiding it where it sat on its low tripod. Laying down, he sighted down the scope, searching for targets. He wasn’t allowed to shoot anyone, and given that he wasn’t sure what innocents were in the buildings nearby he wasn’t looking for things to hit so much as things he could safely miss.

He had intentionally set up so that his wide shots would go off the side of the cliff and toward empty forest, but he still wanted the White Fang to think they were actually under attack. The gun roared as he sent a bullet winging off the top of a big silver AC unit on the roof, and that seemed to get everyone’s attention. Once the guards outside started looking around frantically he placed a few shots well overhead, waiting to see if he got the reaction he was looking for.

Sure enough, less than a minute later more men were rushing out of the building, several were shouting into radios, no doubt trying to reach the unconscious scouts near Jay’s position.

“Alright, Coco,” he reported. “I said hello.”

“I heard,” she replied, a smile in her voice. “Good job. Don’t get caught, we might need you to help clear us a path out.”

“You got it,” he said, watching the frantic motion of the White Fang through his scope.

\--

Ivy stood in the corner, watching her teammates, her hands picking at the uncomfortable uniform as she flinched at the distant sounds of gunshots. She knew it was Jay, but the sound was just so ugly and jarring. She pulled at her jacket again. It would have been so much easier to stay focused if not for the-

“Yatsu, what’s the word?” Coco asked, drawing Ivy’s attention back to the room.

“Uh, sorry, navigating these cameras is kind of a guessing game…Ok! Looks like the path is clear, I’ve set all of the cameras on the way to loop the last five seconds. Go!”

“You heard him,” Coco said, reaching for the door. “Move!”

Ivy followed the others as they rushed out into the hallway. She watched as Sun’s eyes flitted repeatedly to a door on the right, likely the one where he’d left Blake. Ivy still wasn’t sure what they were to each other, and after her disastrous attempt to guess she was too afraid to ask, but Sun clearly cared about Blake a great deal. So much so that Coco had to tug at his arm to keep him moving. “We need to get to the girl first.”

“Right,” he agreed, casting one look back over his shoulder. Ivy followed his glance. She liked Blake, and fervently hoped she was ok. When she turned forward again she noticed that Yang had been looking too, and Ivy could swear she saw fear and concern in her eyes. That surprised her; Yang usually seemed angry around Blake, even though Blake watched her the way Sun watched Blake. Ivy stared at the long blonde hair and the broad back in front of her, trying to understand what was going on in her mind.

Then Coco stopped short, bringing them all to a halt in front of the door with the keypad. Ivy knew what was coming next, but apparently, Coco wanted to exhaust all of her options first. Always trying to protect her. “Yatsu, can you help with the lock?”

“If it’s on the network, I can’t find it,” came his cool reply.

Coco began to pace in a tight loop. She was almost there. “Would it unlock if you cut the power?”

“No way to know, but I doubt it. It will probably have an interior battery backup.”

She nodded, and Ivy waited. “Ok, keep an eye on the cameras, let us know if we’re going to have company.”

“On it.”

Now. “Ivy,” Coco said, waving her over. “You’re up.”

She stepped forward, still uneasy in the unfamiliar building full of unknown dangers, but eager to help her team. As she looked at the keypad her discomfort with the costume and the rushing around and the fighting fell away. Number puzzles were fun, but this wasn’t a number puzzle. Better, it was a people puzzle expressed in numbers. Ivy often found the ambiguities of personal interaction frustrating, but people fascinated her. They were especially interesting when they were trying to keep a secret, and that’s all this passcode was: just a shared secret used to get through a door. Without taking her eyes off the little keypad she pulled out a small vial with a spray nozzle. No use trying to solve a puzzle without a little hint.

A few quick squirts later and the swirling patterns of fingerprints appeared across a few of the numbers. It was a fight not to get lost in the pattern, each one unique and…no, the code, she reminded herself. Four of the buttons had numerous overlapping prints on them, but there were others with partials or individuals. Separate codes? Errant key presses? She considered this in the quiet world she was inhabiting that had shrunk to just her and the keypad and the imagined men and women in her head who belonged to the fingerprints she was examining.

\--

Coco paced as silently as possible, trying not to be obtrusive. Yang looked around nervously. “Should we…I don’t know, hurry her along?” she asked, looking at the silent Ivy hunched over the keypad, staring at it unblinkingly.

“No,” Coco said. “You don’t rush Ivy. Besides, Yatsu will keep us updated.” She tapped her cheek for a moment, running through scenarios before looking up again. “Sun, go get Blake, we’re fine here. Hurry back though.”

“You got it,” he replied, clearly relieved to be allowed to do what he’d wanted all along.

As Sun disappeared back the way they came a light beeping sounded from the keypad behind them. They turned just in time to see Ivy hit the unlock button and receive an angry red buzz in response. “Of course,” she said, as if the little light had told her the answer. “What was the exact date of the fall of Beacon Tower?” she asked without looking up.

When Yang rattled it off without hesitation Coco looked at her with one eyebrow cocked. “Kind of hard to forget,” she said, wiggling her robotic fingers.

A moment later the red light flashed green and the lock clicked open. “How did you know that was it?” Coco asked as she reached for the handle.

“The address of this building wasn’t it, but this is a common space, so the number would have to be something everyone could relate to,” Ivy explained, putting away her little vial. “That left dates, but there weren’t enough numbers for something old, just something recent. What happened recently that has massive and positive connotations for the White Fang?”

“The attack at Beacon. Ivy, I could kiss you,” Coco proclaimed.

“Please don’t.”

“I won’t, I promise,” she laughed, swinging the door open and enjoying the sound of a plan coming together.

Inside was an improvised medical suite, complete with several monitors that must have been the source of the data Yatsu had tracked to find the room. In the middle of it all was a hospital bed that contained a sleeping figure: a thin, pale girl in a hospital gown who’s infirmity made it impossible to tell her age. Coco guessed her somewhere between twelve and twenty. She didn’t even open her eyes at the sudden intrusion, but those at the bedside looked up in confusion.

They were both in scrubs, and both fit descriptions currently stored in Coco’s scroll after her discussion with Dr. Peach. “What do you want?” the man asked.

“Dr. Oobleck?” she asked.

The rail-thin man with a shock of green hair gave her a guarded look. “That’s me. What do you want?”

Before she could reply, the other doctor, a blonde woman with sharp eyes behind her wire-framed glasses, looked up and froze. Following her gaze, Coco realized she was staring at Yang.

“Wait,” she said slowly. “I know you.”

“Hey, Dr. Goodwitch,” Yang said with a small smile. “It’s probably this that’s throwing you off.” With a quick tug, she pulled up her sleeve, waving the armor-plated arm at the bewildered doctor.

“My word,” the woman said.

“What is it Glynda, you know her?” Oobleck prompted, clearly unhappy to be out of the loop.

“It’s Yang, right?” Dr. Goodwitch said. “You’re Miss Rose’s sister.”

“Yes,” Yang replied.

“I’m afraid I don’t know any of the rest of you,” she said, looking around cautiously.

“We’re friends,” Coco said. “And more importantly, we’re here to get you out.”

“We can’t leave this poor girl here,” Dr. Oobleck insisted. “She is very ill.”

“We know,” Coco jumped in. “That’s why she’s coming too. We’re going to take you to a real hospital. Is she stable enough to transport?”

The doctor shook his head. “If you mean to carry her out of here I must insist-“

But Coco cut him off. “We’re not amateurs. Get her onto a mobile gurney, attach her lines, do what you need to, and do it quickly,” she ordered.

Coco had always prided herself in her ability to project competence, and it paid off yet again when Dr. Oobleck stopped arguing and started rushing around making preparations. The man moved so fast he was practically a blur, and Coco just had to hope that he was actually making progress through all of the chaos.

“Dr. Goodwitch,” Yang said, pulling the woman aside. “Where are the others?”

“Of course,” the doctor replied, shaking her head. “There’s a hall with a few rooms that have been converted to makeshift sleeping quarters through that door. The rest are there, including your sister. None of the doors are locked that way.”

Yang thanked her, but before she could go Sun’s voice came, panicked, through the radio. “She’s not here!” he cried.

“What do you mean she’s not there?” Coco demanded.

“I mean when I got here the guard was knocked out and she was gone.”

“Blake!” Coco barked. “If you are listening to this I need you to respond. Now.” After waiting for a few thudding heartbeats she cut her mic. “Damn it!” she hissed through gritted teeth. “I’m going to skin that girl alive.” She brought herself back under control with a sharp breath and activated her radio. “Ok, Sun, get back here-“

“No.”

“What did you say?” she demanded.

“I’m going to find her,” he replied.

“No, I need you here.”

“I’m sorry,” he said.

Coco called his name several times, but the silence she received in return was deafening and horribly familiar.

It was the sound of a plan falling apart.


	29. Gone Awry

Blake crept down the silent corridor, rubbing her wrists where she had so recently been shackled. That idiot guard had been so excited to present her to Adam that he never stopped to wonder if she was a threat as he undid her first handcuff. He had been unconscious before he hit the ground, and Blake had gladly snatched the keys from his hand to finish freeing herself.

The roaring gunshots she’d heard from outside were no doubt Jay’s work, and she silently thanked him as she navigated the emptied halls that had likely emptied only moments before. Adam would still be in the building somewhere, and now she had a clear shot at him. If she was quick enough, the team might not even realize she was missing.

Blake peered around another corner and jerked herself back, holding her breath as a White Fang soldier jogged past, counting an extra few seconds before checking again. The hallway was empty this time, so she continued. She just had to find Adam. That was all. Then all of this would be over. It was perfect.

\--

Everything was ruined.

Coco’s plan was in tatters. If she had been alone, she might have indulged her frustration and thrown every piece of furniture not nailed down across the room. Then torn up everything that was nailed down and thrown that. Then repeated the whole exercise a few times.

But she wasn’t alone.

Instead, she compartmentalized. Compartment one was her objective, neatly packaged right in front of her. The bare minimum criteria for success could still be met. Two was the look on Yang’s face and what it meant: she was going to look for her sister whether Coco allowed it or not. Fine, rescuing all of the doctors had always been part of the plan anyway. Compartment three was Sun and Blake, which she set aside to be dealt with if and when she could. Compartments four through seventeen were filled with her anger and neatly tucked away for someday far in the future when she blew some poor, unsuspecting therapist’s mind.

For now, she composed herself and wielded her tongue like a lash. “Dr. Oobleck, how long until she’s ready to move?”

“Uh…ten, maybe fifteen minutes,” he replied, frantically grabbing supplies.

“Great, you’ve got three,” she replied, blatantly ignoring his complaints. “Yang, go find your sister. If you run into trouble, call us. Don’t do anything rash.”

“Got it,” Yang replied, rushing through the doors Dr. Goodwitch had pointed out.

“Mina,” Coco snapped into her radio.

“What’s up?” came the immediate response.

“We need a ride. Now.”

“Be there in ninety seconds.”

\--

Adam stood, staring at the unconscious guard, seething as his men searched uselessly around the empty security room. “Idiots,” he fumed. “She’s not here.”

“Sir, I-“

“Shut up!” he spat. “Have you found the attacker outside?”

“No, not yet-“

“Stop looking, pull back.”

“Sir?”

Adam turned and strode out of the room. “It was a distraction. She’s already inside. Whoever is out there is of no concern. Secure the girl and the doctors. That must be what she’s after.”

“Yes, sir!” the leader of his honor guard said, snapping to attention. “Where are you going?” he asked as Adam walked out the door.

“Hunting,” he replied, not breaking stride.

\--

“Coco, we have a problem,” Yatsu called.

“What is it?” she asked, pacing around the small room.

“Guards. Headed your way.”

“Of course,” she replied. “Anything you can do to slow them down?”

“Not really.”

“Ivy,” she said. “Can you change the code on the door from in here?”

The codebreaker looked at the door, noting the matching keypad on the near side. “Probably,” she said with a shrug.

“I need you to do it. Right now,” Coco said, looking around for anything heavy that might be useful for blocking the door.

Ivy rushed over and began pressing buttons. Just as she hit the final one to make the update, someone slammed to a stop on the other side, startling her back. In the silence that followed, a series of beeps sounded, punctuated by an angry buzz. A confused murmur of discussion cropped up at this, followed by the same series of beeps and sound of denied access. The voices outside went from confused to agitated while Coco shoved a table full of instruments up against the door.

“Guess we’re taking the back door,” Dr. Goodwitch commented.

“Back door?” Coco asked. For a moment, time froze. Then the doctor slowly nodded. Coco burst into a sprint toward the door Yang had just disappeared through. Before she could get it all the way open, she heard shouting and the thudding of boots as they trampled across the shattered remains of her plan.

\--

Yang tried not to think about Blake. Part of her yearned to go after her, but how could she? Ruby was so close, and she needed her more. Besides, Blake had Sun… Yang shook that thought off and focused on her search. The first few rooms were filled with supplies and little else, but at the end of the short hallway, she finally found a room with five beds crammed in it, three of which were occupied, two by people who simply didn’t exist to her when she saw who was in the last.

“Yang?” Ruby asked, her eyes wide and confused and rimmed by bags that spoke of too little sleep for far too long. The single syllable rang pure and sweet in Yang’s ears, and it was all she could do to stay on her feet rather than simply collapse with relief on the spot.

“Ruby,” she said, smiling and wiping her eyes. “I’m here to take you home.” The smile from her sister’s tired face was like a beam of sunshine, urging Yang along like a friendly breeze in her sails. Ruby lunged out of bed and was on her in a flash, wrapping her in a hug tight enough to make their father proud.

“I love you, Ruby,” Yang said, holding her close.

The response came back muffled by her own jacket. “I love you too.”

After holding her sister for as long as she dared, she gently pulled away. “Wake your friends. We need to go,” she said.

“Right,” Ruby agreed, wiping her face and rushing to rouse the slowly stirring figures.

Yang barely registered the sound of the increasingly frantic chatter on the radio over her own happily hammering heart, but somehow the word 'backdoor' snuck into her awareness just before a slamming door and thudding boots turned the blood in her veins to ice.

“Get back,” she hissed. Then, "Coco?" But there was no time to listen for a response.

As their door exploded open, she rushed the woman who’d kicked it in, grabbing her rifle and crushing the barrel before wrenching it from her hands and thrusting it up, breaking her nose in a spray of blood. She tossed the incapacitated woman back into the man behind, sending them both sprawling, and saw several more troops preparing to charge in. Yang knew she should be afraid. She was horribly outnumbered by trained, not to mention armed, fighters; but all she felt was the familiar call to battle. Her sister was behind her, counting on her. No one was getting through that door.

\--

Coco was frozen, listening as booted feet pounded on tile and Yang called for her help. But what could she do? She was no help to Yang against a swarm of soldiers. She hesitated before growling at her own cowardice and slamming the door shut. "I'm sorry, we'll be there as soon as we can!" she called, but there was no reply. She bit back a curse and looked around, hoping that Yang was too busy busting skulls to reply. “Help me!” she shouted at the doctors, dragging the nearest shelving unit over and shoving it against the door, sending various supplies raining down as she did. They continued adding to the barricade as she called into her radio. “Aqua, I need you here. Now.”

“I’m coming, boss. Yatsu filled me on your location, and I’m in the building, but I need a few minutes.”

“You don’t have a few minutes.”

“It’s either wait a few minutes, or I blow this whole place sky high in fifteen seconds. Pick.”

“I’ll see you in a few minutes,” Coco muttered. “Mina,” she added. “I’m assuming you know that means we aren’t ready for you.”

“Yeah, boss, I’m staying close but out of sight.”

“Good,” she said, blowing out a frustrated breath. She knew that she had done all she could; trying to take on all of those White Fang soldiers would have put their primary objective at risk. That didn’t even take into account Ivy, who was doing her best to keep it together but kept jumping at every loud noise. It was a cold calculus, but Coco knew Yang could take care of herself. Looking guiltily at the door, she whispered, “Hang on, we’re coming.”

\--

Blake swept through the empty hallways, peering in every open door and listening at those that weren’t. By chance, she had stumbled upon a locker room, and after a quick stop, was wearing the vest and mask of the other foot soldiers she’d seen running around. She knew it wouldn’t fool Adam, but it might be enough to get close. As an added bonus, someone had left their gun behind, and she was comforted by its cold weight as she held it by her side.

She moved through the halls on instinct. Each small corridor fed into a larger one, and soon she felt like she was approaching some sort of nexus. Presently, she came to a set of double doors that screamed ‘important.’ That was where Adam would be, she was sure of it. She listened at the door, waiting for some sign that he was inside, but none came. Unwilling to give up on her hunch, she slowly pushed it open, poking her head inside and finding a well-appointed audience chamber with, of course, a raised dais and chair. Blake stepped inside and shook her head. Did he have a throne in every building?

“Looking for me?” a voice asked from inches behind her. “Uh-uh,” Adam tutted, pressing the tip of his gun firmly into her temple. “Drop your weapon.”

Blake waited as long as she figured she could, trying to come up with some way out, but eventually complying when he pressed harder.

“Lose the mask,” he added.

She did. 

“You know, you always did get too focused when you were stalking someone,” he remarked, guiding her roughly into the room. “I guess some people are just better at being prey than predators.”

“You would know about being a predator, huh?” Blake shot back.

He considered this. “I suppose that was meant to be an insult, but frankly, I can’t bring myself to care about your opinion. I know why you’re here. Beringer told me your little team was looking for us.”

“And we found you,” Blake said, grunting as he turned her around roughly and shoved her out of arms reach, never lowering his gun. She knew better than to think she was safe; he could easily kill her from anywhere in the room, and now she was too far to grab his weapon.

“So you did,” he agreed. “But to what end? My men are already returning from your little diversion. Once I heard your name, I knew it was just noise.”

Blake fought to keep her face neutral, but all the rage she had been aiming at Adam took a sharp turn back toward her. “Well, you caught me, so I guess you win,” she bluffed.

Adam laughed for far too long at her little quip. “Oh my darling, you’re not the threat. You never were,” he said. “But I know that you didn’t come alone. Don’t worry; your little friends are being dealt with as we speak.”

She wouldn’t show him that he was getting to her, she wouldn’t. Still, his words left her gasping as though she’d just jumped into freezing water. She’d ruined the advantage of Jay’s distraction, and now everyone was in danger. If they died, it was going to be her fault. She smiled. “You don’t know my friends.”

“Not yet,” he said, a grotesque smile mirroring her own. “But I intend to take the time to get to know each and every one of them, and I’ll be sure to tell them they have you to thank for our meeting.”

As he spoke, he waved her back, circling her and taking his place on his throne. Other than the gun still poised in his outstretched hand, he had the demeanor of a bored king listening to the pleas of one of his many subjects. It made Blake sick.

“But what to do with you?” he mused, bouncing the gun to emphasize his words. “You won’t join me, but you won’t leave me alone, and clearly, I can’t trust anyone to lock you up.” He spoke as though he were merely thinking out loud, but Blake knew he was just toying with her, drawing out the suspense before he announced his intention to kill her. She let him talk, not just to prolong her own life but to keep him as far from her team for as long as possible. Maybe they’d escape.

“It is a pity, you know,” he said, his voice drifting into nostalgia. “What we had was rare and special. Not many experience a love like ours.”

“That wasn’t love,” she spat, no longer able to hold her tongue. “That was obsession, and manipulation, and abuse.”

“You wound me, my love,” he snarled. “Sullying the beautiful memories we had together. Though I suppose you already did that when you betrayed me.”

“I-“

“Enough!” he shouted, standing up suddenly. “I won’t let you continue to interfere with my ambitions, to ruin the things that I’m building, or to save the things that I deem in need of tearing down. All of that ends, here and now.” Straightening his arm, he glared down at her, his cruel smirk never faltering. “Any last words, my love?”

Blake had hardly heard the announcement of her death. She was far too focused on keeping her eyes fixed on Adam’s ornate mask. When she heard his question, it brought a smile to her lips, a genuine one this time. “Yeah,” she said. “I finally see the truth.”

“Oh,” he asked, curious. “And what’s that.”

“You’re not much of a predator, either.”

Before he could even cock his head, the barrel of a rifle was pressed against it. “Don’t move,” Sun said from below his own White Fang mask. His drop from the ceiling had nearly given Blake a heart attack, but somehow she had covered the brief twitch of her eyes when she spotted him creeping up behind Adam.

“Ah, another poor fool that you’ve convinced to sacrifice himself for you?” Adam asked, still staring at Blake.

“Nah,” Sun countered. “It’s a volunteer gig.”

“Well, you certainly pulled it off like a pro,” Adam sneered. “You got me.” Blake didn’t like the confident look on Adam’s face and began backing away, keeping her eyes on him as she crept back toward her own gun.

“Your weapon,” Sun commanded. “Drop it.”

“Of course,” Adam said, flipping the pistol in his hand, so he held it by the barrel. But he didn’t drop it. Instead, he tossed it up in the air in a lazy arc.

Before he could stop himself, Sun looked up, tracing the path of the gun. By the time he snapped his eyes back down, Adam was already moving, his hands a blur as he knocked the rifle away and drew a gleaming knife from his belt and up to Sun’s throat in one smooth motion. When he saw that Blake had retrieved her own gun, he ducked behind his hostage, keeping the blade resting against the pulsing artery running down just below the skin of Sun’s neck.

“Drop it!” Blake cried.

“Oh, I don’t think I will,” Adam said, peaking out at her from behind Sun’s shoulder. “You might want to drop yours unless you’d like to see your little friend here bleed out.”

Before she could respond, Adam’s radio came to life with a frantic voice. “Sir, we have a problem.”

“Not now,” he hissed.

“Something wrong?” Blake mocked.

“Sir,” the voice insisted. “They’ve locked themselves in with the girl, and the one that’s outside is…giving us trouble. Backup is taking too long to get here.”

Adam didn’t answer the man. He was too busy gritting his teeth and holding back the roar Blake could almost hear fighting to escape his throat. Without a word, he began looping around Blake, watching her adjust her aim but never faltering as he held Sun in front of him. She was waiting for him to make a mistake, to lose his footing or stand up too far, but of course he didn’t.

Soon he had circled back to the door. “It’s your lucky day,” he announced. “I’m going to give you a choice.”

Blake shook her head. “The only choice I’m going to make is whether I capture you alive or kill you right now.”

“Brave words, but the only life you have power over right now is this fool’s,” he said. “So here it is: you can follow me, or you can save him. You pick.” With that, he pulled the knife away and down and thrust it up into Sun’s side, tossing him forward at Blake’s feet and vanishing out the door.

Blake dove for Sun, holding him as he curled up and moaned, the side of his uniform quickly turning crimson. “Sun!” she cried. “No no no no, not again. Sun, hang on!”

Somewhere in her scrambled mind, she realized that she should call for help, and she fumbled to turn her radio back on. “Coco! Someone, I need help. Sun is hurt!”

“Fuck! How bad?” Coco snapped.

“Bad,” Blake replied. “And it gets worse. Adam and reinforcements are headed your way.”

“Not sure about Adam,” Aqua said, her voice distant as though she were only half paying attention to what she was saying. “But those reinforcements probably aren’t coming back any time soon.”

“What?” Coco and Blake said at the same time.

The sapper chuckled. “Let’s just say they ran into a sticky situation on the way back in.”

“Did you set up more of those fucking magnets?” Coco asked.

“You know it, boss! Pinned ‘em up in the tunnels running around the building.”

“Aqua, you’re the best.”

“Hey!” Jay cut in. “I’m the one who tranqued them while they were stumbling around.”

“Yes, Jay, you’re also very pretty,” Coco allowed. “Now everyone quit jawing. We have a man down, and Yang’s in trouble. Aqua, how’s it going?”

“Wait, did you say that Yang’s in trouble?” Blake demanded.

“We’ll worry about Yang. You worry about Sun; keep him alive, we’ll figure out an extraction.”

Blake briefly considered ignoring her, but Sun was losing the fight to stay conscious, and she knew that if she abandoned him now, it would be a death sentence. She just prayed that she wasn’t killing Yang in the process.

\--

"I'm sorry-" was all Yang heard before tearing out her earpiece in disgust. There was no cavalry, and she didn't need it anyway. She wasn't a damsel, she was the knight in shining armor.

Time to get a little dirty.

She threw everything she had at the fools rushing her, aided by the funnel of the door limiting the attackers to one or two at a time. On top of that, the soldiers fighting their way in seemed leery of shooting at her, likely unwilling to risk hitting the doctors beyond. Free of any such restrictions, she swung with all her might, leaving half a dozen comatose at her feet within minutes.

But while her mechanical arm would never tire, her body still did. Eventually, she missed a swing. The man facing her saw her stumble and sprang at her, grabbing her arm and swinging her out into the hall. She was surrounded, and even though that left them with no good sightlines to use their guns, it also left her open to attacks from all sides. She snarled and grunted and fought and struggled, but it wasn’t enough. Slowly, through sheer force of numbers, they wrestled her to the ground. When she reached out and broke one of their ankles with a twitch of her wrist, several rifle barrels lowered at once: all pointed at her head. Even in the midst of battle rage, she knew when she was beaten, and she stilled under the boots, knees, and hands of those holding her down.

“So what now?” she asked, looking around as though she was experiencing a minor inconvenience. A rapid wave of whispering passed through the fighters, and those not actively holding Yang down snapped to attention.

“Now?” a cold voice said. “Now we get your friends to let us in…It’s you.”

Yang twisted carefully to look up at the man who’d parted the sea of soldiers and crouched down over her. “Oh fuck,” she said, her blood running cold as she saw the familiar face.

“Today is the gift that keeps on giving,” Adam laughed. “Hello, Yang.”

“Adam,” she replied, fighting the urge to lash out and crush his revolting face.

As though he sensed her desire, he looked at the arm his people were avoiding so studiously. “Huh, that’s new,” he said, tapping the plating with the tip of his gun. “I had heard from Beringer’s mercs that your little group had someone who could catch bullets. I thought it was bullshit, but this looks legit. I guess you should be thanking me.”

“Fat chance, asshole.”

Adam tutted and stood back up, pointing his weapon at the arm in question. “I’m of a mind to test out that claim, but I’m in something of a hurry. Tell your people to open the door, and we won’t have to repeat our last meeting,” he offered.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Yang responded.

“Oh, and why not?” he asked. Without waiting for an explanation, he unloaded a round.

The explosion deafened everyone around, covering the sound of the ricochet, but not the cries of the soldier who dropped to the floor, clutching his leg. Adam looked at the downed man, his eyebrows rising above the rim of his mask in surprise. “Well, would you look at that?” he said, nodding. Reaching out with his free hand, he rubbed the surface of the arm, noting as Yang shuddered under his touch. “Ceramic, interesting. More interesting that you seem to have a sense of touch. Any chance it has a sense of pain?”

“Nope,” Yang lied. “Why the fuck would I want that?”

“I don’t know,” he mused. “But now I’m curious. Even if you’re right, you still have plenty of flesh left that does have feel pain, so no real loss.” He stood up and looked at the nearest soldier. “Bring me a flare, now.”

“What the fuck?” Yang asked, but the man had already dashed out of the room, and Adam was looking at her with a disturbing half-smile.

\--

“What’s the word?” Coco demanded.

“I’m almost ready. Get away from the back wall,” Aqua replied over the comm.

Coco shooed everyone into the corner by the door and demanded a status update from the rest of her crew. At some point, Yatsu and Jay had hopped on board with Mina and Hark, so at least she didn’t have to worry about them. Blake had bound Sun’s wound and was on the move, but it was slow going. The hall outside had gone quiet after a sudden gunshot, but the voices that had followed at least confirmed that Yang was still alive. There was still hope. It wasn’t over. _Hang in there_ , she thought, not sure who she was thinking of when she did.

\--

A flare was slapped into Adam’s hand. Yang started to struggle, but she was ordered still by one of the soldiers aiming at her head. That left her to watch, helpless, as Adam lit the flare and let it burn until it was a glaring white, too bright to look at directly.

“You know,” he said over the hiss of the flare. “The warning on here says this can get up to a few thousand degrees. Apparently, that’s dangerous,” he added. “Tell your crew to open the door, and you won’t have to find out what the heat tolerance on that fancy toy is.”

“Go to hell,” Yang snarled.

“Wrong answer,” Adam said, plunging his hand down and pressing the flame to the plating of Yang’s arm.

At first, she felt nothing. The thickness of the plating and the efficient circulatory system diffused the heat admirably. But neither was enough for long, and the heat soon started triggering, and then overwhelming, the heat sensors. Yang gritted her teeth, doing her best not to show him it was working, hoping that he would get bored and give up, but even she had limits.

She started to squirm, a few soldiers stomping down on her shoulder and wrist to keep her still, and then a whimper forced its way past her teeth. She tried to focus on the science; the plating could take high heat, but she couldn’t remember exactly how much. Regardless, the sudden jump was going to cause thermal shock; and sooner or later, it would crack. The real question was, which would crack first: the plating or Yang’s will. Just as she started to hear the splintering of rapidly heating ceramic, the sound was drowned out by screaming: her screaming.

For a moment, that was all she could hear. Then, for a time, she heard nothing at all.

\--

After the unnerving silence had come a harsh voice. Coco didn’t know whose and couldn’t make out the words, but she knew the sound of a leader, and she knew the sound of demands. He was telling Yang to get the door open, but she wasn’t cooperating.

Then the screaming started.

“Aqua!” Coco shouted.

“Hang tight!”

But sitting still was never her strong suit. She began rifling through the small bag she had stashed in her jacket.

“Why are you putting on makeup?” Dr. Goodwitch demanded.

“Because it might save lives,” Coco snapped, continuing what she was doing. She cursed her lack of a wig but had instant dye and enough bobby pins to make it work.

“Ok, here goes!” Aqua announced. Then the building rocked with the force of an explosion. Dust fell from the ceiling, but the wall in front of them stood strong. A second blast, closer this time, shuddered the room. Before they could brace, the third went off, an oddly muffled blast that didn’t blow up the wall so much as disintegrate it, leaving the huddled group coughing in the cloud of dust as a very dirty Aqua ran around the edge of the new opening. As the dust cleared, Coco saw that it led straight to the rear of the building overlooking the cliff.

“Mina! Here. Now,” Coco snapped, waving Aqua over. The entire time the screaming from outside continued. “Yang went through there to get to her sister,” she said, indicating the blocked door. “There’s a squad of soldiers out there, sounds like they’re torturing her. We need to stop them!”

“On it!” Aqua said as she sprang into action, throwing the pieces of the hastily assembled barricade aside as quickly as she could.

“Ivy,” Coco said, schooling her tone to gentleness as she approached the cowering woman. “I need you and the doctors to get the girl to Mina. Can you do that?”

“Yes, boss,” she replied, her eyes wide and searching. For a moment, she didn’t move, and Coco thought she was going to have to repeat herself, but then Ivy lurched forward to help the doctors navigate the rubble with the rolling gurney, guiding them out toward daylight.

\--

Finally, the small crackling gave way to a large wrenching sound. Adam smiled as he pulled the flare away, waiting for Yang’s scream to subside back to whimpers as he looked at his handiwork. The glaze on her forearm was scorched and blackened around the jagged crack that revealed the slightly damaged circuitry below.

“You still with me?” he asked, tapping the cool end of the flare on her arm and laughing as she flinched. “Seems you do have pain receptors in there after all.”

“Fuck…off,” she grunted.

“Oh, but I’m just about to get started,” he said with relish. “Unless you get your friends to open the door.” He didn’t mention the explosions he’d heard. He figured she didn’t need to know that her team was only moments away from victory. Well, not total victory, he thought with relish.

“Not going to happen,” she moaned.

Adam leaned down close to her. “I was hoping you’d say that,” he whispered. In a flash, he drew his knife and plunged it into the crack on her arm, grinning as he twisted it and watched her let out a fresh scream.

\--

The pain was so intense it drove Yang from her body, and she watched from above as her helpless form flailed and let out animalistic noises she hadn’t even known a person could make. Her mind floated along, remembering another time she had felt pain like this, and that brought Pyrrha’s face shimmering into her mind. Poor Pyrrha, this was exactly what she had been worried about. It was why she was so set on adding the failsafe.

The failsafe.

Yang cursed herself, she must have convinced Pyrrha to set the threshold incredibly high, but she knew her friend wouldn’t have messed it up. If she could only boost the pain signal, it would trip.

It had to.

Yang started to fight, but instead of pulling away, she shoved her arm further up toward the hilt of Adam’s knife, thrashing rapidly and sending a current of electric agony coursing through her body. She felt the edges of her vision blurring as she lost her grip on consciousness, but she didn’t relent. There would be an end; there had to be an end. If there wasn’t, she was going to pass out, and then it wouldn’t be her problem anymore.

And then the pain was gone. She hadn’t heard the subtle sound of the mechanism releasing, but the cessation of pain was impossible to miss. Looking around, it was clear that most of those holding her down were focused on her arm, and at some point, their guns had been lowered or holstered. Apparently, she didn’t seem like much of a threat anymore.

In one fluid motion, she surged upward, leaving the damaged arm behind as she regained her feet. With a vicious elbow, she dropped one soldier behind her. A knee to the groin took care of the one in front of her. She saw her time running out, however, as those out of reach stepped back and raised their guns, faster to react than the shocked Adam who was still staring at the disembodied arm.

Yang dove back to the open door she had been pulled from, joining the doctors cowering within. Ruby had been fighting to join the fray, but the other two were restraining her, probably saving her life. Yang rolled into the room and landed on her feet, Ruby’s wide eyes briefly filling with a relief that was violently cast aside in favor of terror. Yang whipped around to find herself face to face with Adam, or more accurately, face to gun. 

\--

Aqua had hoped when the Yang’s scream had trailed off that the White Fang had stopped, even if it meant that they got whatever it was they were after, but soon they started in again. She tried not to think about what they were doing that was drawing such a reaction from the unflappable woman. As she tossed the last shelf aside, she prepared to rush through the door, but a hand stopped her.

“Boss?” she asked, confused for a moment by the profound change Coco had made with her seemingly magical makeup.

“I know: it’s not quite perfect. That’s why we need to do this right.” Yang's scream was cut off, and both of them jerked their heads toward the door, listening to the sounds of surprise and struggle. “Did you bring any of your smoke bombs?” Coco asked, looking back at the sapper.

\--

It was too much. Yang wanted to be strong, wanted to show Adam that she wasn’t afraid. If only she still had her arm…but no, that hadn’t been enough, had it? As she stared down the barrel of his gun, she felt her entire body start to quake, and it took all of her willpower to stop her knees from buckling entirely. She’d lost. She knew that already. But to have to relive the exact same scene from the worst night of her life all over again piled humiliation and terror on top of the cold certainty that she was going to die.

_Coward_ , that cold voice said from within her. What could she do but agree?

“Disappointing,” Adam tutted, leering over the sights. “After so much bravado, now you stand here, shaking like a leaf.” He shook his head, almost appearing sad if not for that damn smile. “I was going to have some fun with you, but now I think I’ll just put you out of your misery.”

Yang had always wondered if her life would flash before her eyes when she faced death. As Adam’s hand closed around the grip, squeezing the trigger, she thought for a moment it might. The world had slowed to a crawl, and her mind raced as the millimeters that separated her from death slowly vanished. What she hadn’t expected was a literal flash. Or a swirling mist.

Wait, was that mist, or smoke?

A swirling within the smoke revealed a shadowy figure rising behind Adam, and despite the haze obscuring her golden eyes, Yang had no trouble recognizing Blake. So, her life was going to flash before her eyes after all, just not as she had expected. Rather than remembering all that was, she was presented with what might have been; the future she had wanted but would never, now, have. Blake was fast, but even she couldn’t reach Adam in time, and Yang watched her mouth open in horror as he closed his hand.

In that final moment, the rest of the world dropped away. Despite everything going on around her, Yang could only see the love she would never have and the monster who was happily denying her that life. It was almost poetic, and its tragic beauty nearly made her forget the truth. A rustling sound reminded Yang that there was more to her world, that someone who had a very prominent place in it was there, refusing to be ignored. 

And she was far closer than Blake. 

Before the muzzle flash blinded her, Yang was thrown aside hard enough to send her tumbling to the floor. Ruby wasn’t strong, but she had always been so fast, and while everyone else was transfixed by the tableaux of death they were witnessing, she had acted, throwing her entire body into her sister to shove her away.

But Adam was still pulling the trigger. Yang didn’t know if it was too late to stay his hand or if he just wanted to kill, but his aim adjusted, ever so slightly, to track the center of the blur in front of him. Yang’s eyes went wide.

The gun went off.

Ruby was thrown back against the wall, looking down in surprise at the rapidly reddening hole in her shirt before she collapsed.

“No!” Yang screamed, ignoring Adam’s still-raised gun as she rushed to her sister’s side.

“I’m not done with you yet!” he snarled, but before he could fire again, he let out a growl of pain and surprise. Yang threw a glance over her shoulder in time to see that Blake had kicked him in the back of one leg, driving him down to one knee and drawing his gaze. “You!” he screamed, before looking in confusion at the rising smoke surrounding her and his coughing soldiers. Then Blake bolted, vanishing around the corner toward the rear entrance.

“You three, secure the doctors,” Adam commanded, staggering to his feet. “The rest of you, with me!” Without a single look back to acknowledge what he’d done, he sprinted out of the room, leaving Yang alone with her bleeding sister.

And three more soldiers.

_Coward_.

No...

_Run, coward. It’s what you do, isn’t it?_

No.

She gently set Ruby down, ignoring the pale faces and terrified gasping of the other doctors as she rose to her feet. She turned just in time to meet the first attacker, and as he tried to blink the smoke from his eyes, she drove her fist into the side of his jaw, knocking him sidewise into the doorframe and opening a nasty gash on his head as he slumped. The second tripped on the first as she tried to enter, and Yang sprung, tackling her into the hallway and straddling her where she lay. Her victim tried to protect herself from the raining blows, but even with a one-arm advantage, it was a losing battle. The red on Ruby’s shirt had found its way into Yang’s eyes, and as the crimson smoke swirled around her, she split the woman’s pathetic defense and began pummeling her senseless. It was only when her hand was stopped by a vice-like grip that she remembered there was a third, and she turned with fury in her eyes to face her final opponent.

But something was wrong, the figure before her didn’t look ready to strike, and there was pity in her eyes. Yang struggled, trying to free her only hand so that she could destroy this odd apparition, enraged that she couldn’t break loose. Finally, the woman struck, but it was a backhanded blow with little force to it.

“Yang, you need to snap out of it!”

“Aqua?” she mumbled, looking up at the shock of teal hair.

“Obviously! You need to get ahold of yourself.”

“What-?”

“Remember why you’re here. Your sister needs you.”

As the anger abated, the pain of loss took its place, and Yang felt burning tears fill her eyes. “No, it’s too late-“

“It will be if you keep wasting time. The docs in there said she’s bleeding out, but still alive.”

“She’s still…?”

“Yes,” Aqua said, pulling Yang to her feet. “She is. Others need me right now, so you do what you came here to do and get her out. Go back to the medical suite. You’ll see the way.”

“I…” Yang faltered, looking down and seeing her damaged arm. Before she could think too hard about it, she reached down and shoved it in place, clenching her teeth as the damaged circuitry did its best to connect. “Ok,” she said, flexing her hand slowly.

Aqua watched her for a beat before taking off at a run, heading for whatever assignment Coco must have given her. Yang walked into the room, noting that the other inhabitants had launched into action once they saw a problem they could address. Their supplies were limited, though, and beyond applying pressure and tearing up sheets to use as bandages, there was little they could do.

“We need to get her out of here,” one of them said as Yang entered.

“I know,” she agreed. Bending down and scooping up the tiny form. “Follow me.”

Her arm felt wrong, to put it mildly, and the mobility was far from smooth. Still, she just needed it to form a shelf for her sister’s legs, and it did that admirably enough. She moved as quickly as she could without jostling the still figure in her arms, trying not to look at the bloody rag that had been pressed onto her chest as she did. When they arrived back in the main room, she was startled to find that one entire wall had been blown away. She looked through and saw that two others beyond it had met a similar fate, leaving a gaping maw open to the brilliant sky outside. Yang’s first thought as she stepped over the remains of the first wall was how odd it was for it to be daytime. And such a beautiful day at that. How could the world not know that events like these were meant for the night? Preferably a cloudy night full of ominous wind and distant thunder.

Her eyes slowly adjusted to the brilliant light and revealed a gleaming white ship hovering just at the edge of the newly-made exit. The only thing marring the expanse of the hull was a bright red cross just behind the cockpit. A hospital transport ship. One that Yang’s clouded mind realized she had seen just the night before.

The side door slid open, and inside Yang saw Yatsu’s giant frame, extending a hand to help. She shook him off. “Get a bed ready,” was all she said.

He turned without a word, hitting a button on a nearby panel that folded a bed out of the wall on the far side of the ship. Stepping aboard, Yang gently lay Ruby down before she was pushed aside. She jerked her head up to see the quiet calm of Dr. Goodwitch. “Go sit down,” the doctor insisted. “I’ll look after her.”

Yang looked down at Ruby, wanting to help but accepting that she would only get in the way. Instead of arguing, she simply nodded, dragging herself over into a corner and slumping to the deck. She stared vaguely at the bed across from her and registered the girl that all of this had really been about, a young faunus who had barely stirred despite the battle being fought around her. Dr. Oobleck was at her side, though he had taken time to hug both of the frightened young men who had followed Yang onboard before promptly putting them to work.

What could have been minutes or hours later, Aqua’s voice came over the comms. “Get ready to go. We’ll be back in fifteen seconds.”

“Got my hand on the throttle,” Carmina replied in her cool pilot’s voice.

Aqua appeared, right on schedule, and not alone. She was helping Blake support Sun, and the three of them struggled over, gladly allowing Yatsuhashi to take his weight and place him on another of the ship’s beds.

“Gods dammit,” Dr. Goodwitch said through clenched teeth, barking orders to the young doctors and guiding them through stabilizing Sun while she managed Ruby.

“Mina, we gotta go,” Aqua called as she stepped on board.

“Where’s Coco?” the pilot demanded.

“She’s-“

“I’m not coming,” Coco's voice said, low but clear in all of their earpieces.

“What?!” Mina cried.

“It’s ok, I’m ok. I’m just leading them on a merry chase. It turns out Blake’s face draws quite a reaction from Mr. Taurus,” she snarked.

“Wait, what?” Blake demanded.

Yang gasped as she realized what had happened. The fog, it had covered just enough to let makeup and Yang's imagination do the rest.

“It was you, in the hallway,” she said.

“Guilty,” Coco agreed, taking a moment to breathe as though she were running. “I’m sorry I was too slow, is Ruby…?”

“She’s alive,” Yang reported.

“Good,” Coco said, sounding genuinely relieved. “Sounds like the mission was a success then.”

“No, not until you’re back-“ Carmina argued.

“Mina, enough,” Coco said, her voice lowering to a whisper. “We won, we’ve got everything we came for, now get the hell out while you can. You know what’s on the line.”

“I don’t care!” the pilot cried, all of her normal calm completely abandoned. “I’m not leaving-“

“You are; that is a direct order. Go.”

“No, Coco, please. I…”

“I know,” their leader replied, cutting her confession off. “I…me too. Let’s talk about it later, ok? This isn’t goodbye.”

Then the line clicked off.

“Coco, no! Coco!” Carmina gasped. Aqua dashed to the big cockpit, and her low muttering just audible from the medical bay. “Don’t touch me!” Carmina shouted, silencing her. “I know what my job is, you asshole. Somebody shut the damn door and hold on.”

Without waiting to be told twice, Yatsu hit the door control, only just in time for their speedy departure. Despite her anger, Carmina piloted the ship with expert precision, and the doctors weren’t interrupted from their work as the ship swung into the sky.

Blake looked vaguely shellshocked as she staggered past the flurry of activity, sparing a horrified glance for Ruby as she went. She crouched down by Yang, her eyes going wide as she stared at her shattered arm. “What happened?” she asked miserably.

“Adam happened,” Yang said, not meeting her gaze. “Then Coco showed up, disguised quite convincingly as you. He left us alone to chase her.”

Blake stood back up, and Yang saw the guilt in her eyes as she took in the carnage around her. For a moment, she looked ready to flee, but the tiny ship would offer her no such escape, not this time. Yang shook her head and looked down at her scorched arm, flexing her fingers haltingly and trying not to think about the events of the past hour. Blake likely needed comforting, but she had none to give.

She looked up as Jay and Hark followed Aqua out of the cockpit, leaving Mina alone. Yang couldn’t blame her for needing space, leaving Coco behind…she couldn’t even imagine what was going through her head as she guided them through the clouds. Hark sought out Ivy, tucked in a corner and staring out the window, and murmured quietly to her as he stood by her side. Jay looked up at Aqua, his stare as unreadable as ever.

Finally, Aqua broke. “What?” she demanded.

“Nothing,” he said. He reached out and patted her shoulder. “I know how the boss is. She can’t be told no once she’s got a plan in her head.”

“She is so fucking stubborn,” Aqua said with a low laugh.

“She is. And she’d be pissed at us if we didn’t finish this,” he agreed.

With a jolt, Yang remembered that they weren’t done yet, and was glad it wasn’t her job to carry on. Her part was over. She just had to hope she’d done enough. She tried to catch a glimpse of Ruby in the middle of the swarm of doctors but didn’t see anything that made her feel any better.

“Right.” Aqua pulled out her scroll. After a few quick taps, she brought it to her ear. She waited silently for what felt like an eternity to Yang, long enough that she was shaken from her torpor just enough to worry that things might be worse than she thought. Much to her relief, the call was answered. “Weiss,” Aqua said. “It’s time.”


	30. No Good Deed

The flight to Mistral Memorial Hospital was a study in contrasts. Aqua watched as the doctors flitted about, speaking tersely and continuously as they managed their patients. Her teammates stood silent and motionless, watching intently but inhabiting a different world entirely from the one of frantic motion they were so focused on.

The first of the crew to speak was Carmina, and even then, it wasn’t to anyone onboard. “Mistral Memorial Emergency Department, this is Medical Transport Oh-Seven,” she said, her voice drained of all emotion as she reached out over the radio. “Requesting docking permission and emergency teams for two critically wounded patients, over.”

There was a moment of silence from the cockpit. Aqua held her breath to see if their bluff would work. The transport they were flying was unregistered; it was a sample model they had…borrowed from a company making a bid to be the next supplier for the city. The callsign was registered to a ship that Yatsu had discovered was currently out of commission for repairs. It was a weak cover, but it only needed to get them in the door.

“I’ve got a visual,” came the response. “I don’t know who you are, but you aren’t Oh-Seven. Identify yourself.”

When Carmina picked up the radio, she mostly kept her cool, but more than a bit of desperation tinged her voice. “Please, we are a medical transport with two people dying in the hold. We need help.”

Again a pause, this one longer and far more agonizing. “Proceed to dock four,” the voice replied coldly. “We will treat your patients, but know that when you dock, security will come out and anchor your ship. Your crew will not be allowed to leave until the authorities arrive.”

“Guys?” Carmina called back into the medical bay.

Everyone who wasn’t working looked at Aqua. She sighed. “Should we put it to a vote?” she asked, looking around.

“We promised Coco we’d finish the mission,” Jay said with a resigned shrug. “I don’t see what choice we have.”

“Not to mention we have two people who need critical care, now,” Yatsuhashi added, keeping his voice down but drawing the hollow stares of Blake and Yang.

“Right,” Aqua said. Raising her voice, she called toward the cockpit. “Take us in, Mina.”

They approached the dock and found a small crowd waiting for them. Most of them wore scrubs and stood in solemn anticipation around the gurneys and supplies they’d brought with them, ready to treat the incoming patients. A handful wore guard uniforms, and one of those was punching buttons on a panel of some sort. Aqua realized it was the controls for the anchor when a resounding thunk on the hull of the ship marked their arrival. Electromagnets, most likely; no going back now. Aqua sighed. “Mina, door and ramp, please, and thank you.” The pilot didn’t respond, but the hiss of the seal around the door indicated that she had heard.

Aqua stepped out first, calling for gurneys. Behind her came Yang with Ruby in her arms and Yatsu with Sun in his, both carrying their burdens gently down the ramp. As they deposited them on the beds, Dr. Goodwitch rushed forward, demanding to speak to the physician in charge. A middle-aged man raised his hand, and she ran over to him to rapidly explain the condition of the patients as they were rushed inside.

Dr. Oobleck and the two young doctors wheeled the gurney with Oak’s daughter out at a more sedate pace, accepting the help of the few nurses who had hung around to see if any more surprises were waiting in the ship. He explained the situation in broad strokes, they agreed to guide him to the appropriate ward, and together they walked into the large entrance to the hospital. 

The lead security officer looked at the odd assortment remaining, finally focusing on Aqua. “Tell everyone else on board to come out. If you cooperate, it’ll make it easier on all of us.”

She looked at him, wishing Coco was there to speak so she wouldn’t have to, but trusting the absent woman’s plan. “Of course,” she said. “Jay,” she called up into the hold. “Gather the others and meet us out here. Tell Mina she’s coming to.”

Jay nodded and passed along her message, and soon the whole motley crew was stepping out into the blinding sun. Ivy and Hark looked nervously at the security guards, while Jay strolled casually along behind. His false calm was betrayed only by his eyes as they darted around, no doubt measuring the distances between himself and each potential adversary. Blake came next, her shoulders slumped and feet dragging like she bore a great weight on her back. She hardly spared a glance for the team that was watching them, but her eyes furtively found Yang, who was staring helplessly into the door where her sister had just disappeared. Finally, Mina stalked down the ramp, her eyes flashing with pain and rage as she abandoned her ship.

“Alright,” Aqua said to the commander. “That’s everyone. What now?”

The officer glanced around, realizing that he and his men were outnumbered and that some of the people before him looked more than capable of putting up a fight. Rather than lose control of the situation, he decided leniency was in order. “Were the injured with you?” he asked. Aqua nodded. “Then surrender your weapons, and you can wait for them. We’ll set aside one of our offices for you.”

Aqua glanced around at the others. No one said anything, but Jay shrugged his grudging consent, so she turned to the man. “Should we do it here? Do you have a cart or a table or something?”

“I…how many guns do you have?” the man asked, looking at the seemingly lightly armed crew.

“Did you just want guns?” she asked, a crooked smile sneaking onto her face.

\--

A few minutes later, there was a sizable pile of guns, knives, and small devices that the captors were instructed not to touch piled up on the security chief’s desk. “Is this all?” he said, swallowing visibly.

Aqua chuckled. “Yeah, that’s all.”

“Ok,” he replied, looking uncertainly at the pile. “You can wait in the training room, through there.” He gestured vaguely toward the door in question, his eyes never leaving the arsenal in front of him.

Aqua shut the door behind them once they’d all trooped through, leaning against it and closing her eyes.

“What now?” Carmina demanded.

“What do you mean, what now?” Jay responded. “Now, we wait.”

“We just wait?” the pilot shot back. “Coco was captured. We have to go back for her!”

Jay spread his empty hands, gesturing to the room around them. “What else can we do?”

“These clowns can’t hold us,” Mina scoffed. “We could bust out and free our ship. Coco would never leave any of us behind. She-“

Aqua opened her eyes. “Enough,” she said, cutting her off with a slice of her hand. “We finish the mission.”

“But-“ Carmina protested.

“No buts,” Aqua said. “We do as we were told. If Weiss comes through, we win. We’ll have stopped the war. At that point, we can get backup from RLIC. Hell, the Mistral military might even join us. Then we can kick down the doors necessary to get to Coco.”

Carmina stepped forward, stabbing her finger up at Aqua’s chest. “She wouldn’t wait for someone else to clean up her mess. She would come up with a plan and bust us out with no backup and no weapons beyond a bag of makeup.”

Aqua looked down at the tears in the eyes of the fierce little pilot. With a quick motion, she pulled her into a firm embrace. “I know,” she agreed. “I know she would.” She released her a moment later and looked around at the others. “But she’s not here, so the best thing we can do is complete the mission she gave us.”

Carmina turned around, her shoulders slumping as her comrades all nodded slowly. When she saw that she was alone, she deflated, slouching away and collapsing into a chair. Aqua hated leading. She had avoided several promotions in the military; it was one of the reasons she had eventually left and ended up at RLIC. She liked doing her job; she had no interest in telling others how to do theirs. She was glad that most of the eyes in the room had fallen away from her. She made her way to a quiet corner, hoping that by standing aside, they would stop looking to her to step into shoes she in no way wanted to fill.

\--

Yang sat, oblivious to the conversation around her. Nothing could penetrate the vivid memory of Ruby, bloody and pale and limp on the floor. While the image lay frozen in her mind, she looked at her damaged arm. She tried to flex her fingers, but their motion was jerky and awkward. She willed her hand to close tightly, but the sudden surge of activity exacerbated something in the circuitry and sent a wave of pain up her arm. With a panicked swipe, she triggered the release and pulled the arm off. It was only when she saw several sets of eyes turned her way that she realized she was panting, her lungs demanding air for her pounding heart. She quickly looked away and willed her heart to slow and her breath to still, then glared at the traitorous arm in her hand.

Feeling it separate again brought her back to that room, back to both rooms where Adam had leveled that gleaming gun at her. She felt herself begin to tremble, but she only had enough willpower left to hold back her tears, so her body was left to quake as she jammed the arm back in place with no small amount of discomfort. After the space of a few jagged breaths, a hand landed on her shoulder, bringing with it a wave of stillness. She knew without looking who it was. A bubble of anger rose in her chest, but she forced it down and accepted the comfort from the familiar pressure.

“Are you ok?” Blake asked, her voice low and soft so as not to carry.

Suddenly Yang's grip on her anger was lost, and she found she wasn’t in the mood for low or soft. “Yeah, I’m great. Adam tortured me and then shot Ruby. It was awesome.”

“Yang…”

“I’m fine,” she said, jerking her shoulder out from under the touch that part of her wanted so badly. “Just leave me alone.”

Blake pulled back her hand like she’d set it on a hot stove but said nothing. The room returned to its gloomy silence, with Yang’s silence somehow profoundly deeper than the one around her.

\--

After an interminable wait, the door burst open to reveal Weiss, her eyes taking in the subdued group with growing concern. “What happened?” she asked, looking around. “We did it, didn’t we?”

“Yeah,” Aqua said, stepping forward when no one spoke up. “We got her.”

Weiss looked at her, then scanned the room again. “Where’s-?“

But she was cut off by a voice behind her. “Thank you, Miss Schnee,” Councilman Oak said, stepping around her into the room. “Would you please get the door?” Weiss scowled at him but did as she was asked. “Thank you,” he said again, turning to face the vaguely hostile looks of those around him. “I was quite surprised when one of my biggest donors called me out of the blue today,” he narrated, ever the politician. “And even more so when he told me that it was at the behest of Miss Schnee here, but neither surprise compared to the claim that you had found my daughter.” For just a moment, his veneer cracked, showing a glimmer of what may have been an actual person underneath before it was quickly covered over. “Where is she?”

“She was admitted, I’m sure you can find her if you ask around,” Aqua explained.

He curled his lip in distaste. “I’ll be sure to have someone do that,” he intoned. “But I would like to know how you came to find her, and to what end you decided to take such drastic measures.”

“Look,” Aqua said, sighing as she was forced to speak for the group. “We know all about your daughter, obviously, and we know that Beringer kidnapped some doctors to take care of her.”

“I know of no such thing,” he snapped.

His denial was believable, but Aqua assumed he could lie to a sick orphan on her birthday, so she didn’t put too much stock in it. “Regardless,” she said. “We know that, in exchange, you agreed to break the Vytal Treaty and agitate for war. That’s why you pushed for this emergency election.”

“Get to the point,” he said, not denying it.

“It’s over,” she said. “Your daughter is getting help without Beringer, he doesn’t own you. Call off the election and stop this pointless war before it begins.”

“Or what?” he asked, his voice a venomous whisper.

“Or…wait, what?” Aqua fumbled, looking around for help. More than ever, she wished Coco was there. “There is no or, just stop. You don’t actually want war, do you?” she asked, her mouth falling open when she saw the truth in his face.

“Young lady, you have gravely misjudged this situation,” he said, his tone schooled back to its polished charm and dripping with fake pity. “Had you come to me a few weeks ago with this? Maybe…maybe I would have done as you asked.”

“But-“

“Enough,” he said. “I have committed to this path, in more ways than one. If I pull out now, it will be the end of my career, my legacy.”

“So instead, you’ll consign countless to death in a pointless war?” Blake demanded, stepping forward.

Oak’s eyes narrowed as they flicked across her ears. “I would have assumed one such as yourself would have more allegiance to the White Fang’s cause, but that’s beside the point,” he said, ignoring her attempts at protest. “It has always been the place of the lowly to die for their betters. Many will be grateful to be given such a meaningful end.”

“You’re planning on profiting from this, aren’t you?” Weiss asked in disbelief.

“Profit?” He scoffed, looking down at her. “Of course, a merchant’s daughter would assume my motives were so base. Surely, many of my donors will reap financial rewards, and no doubt they will pass some on to me, but that’s not my concern. Power, my dear. Power is the only currency in which I trade. When I saw that this was the path I would have to take due to my…personal failings, I ensured that I would only benefit from its outcome.”

Weiss’s face reddened, but she pressed on. “So you’re actually going to go through with it?”

“Of course, my dear,” he chuckled, as though her question was a silly little matter.

“We can’t let you do that,” Aqua said, trying to project the confidence that Coco would have if she had been there.

“Oh, I know,” he said. “Unfortunately for you, there’s nothing you can do to stop me. Officers!” he called out, stepping aside as several Mistral Police officers burst into the room. “These are the terrorists who nearly blew a facility off the side of the mountain today and kidnapped an innocent child. Arrest them!”


	31. Into the Light

The police officers yanked handcuffs from their belts and began shouting orders, rightfully nervous about the dangerous-looking crew. Three officers took up posts around Yatsu, despite the big man complying peacefully. This only left one to cover both Jay and Carmina, which was nearly a fatal mistake. The pair looked at each other, smiling as they prepared to strike, but Weiss stepped forward before they could make a bad situation worse. She reached into her jacket, her fingers grasping at her ultimate weapon.

“Stop!” she boomed, freezing the room as all eyes turned toward her and the small card she was brandishing like a shield. “In the name of Atlas, I order you to cease and desist.”

The officers paused, looking at one another in confusion. One took charge and stared her down. “I don’t know if you heard, little lady, but we aren’t exactly on friendly terms with Atlas these days.” The rest of the officers snickered, but Weiss held her ground, defiance written in every line of her body.

“Do you really want to take responsibility for starting a war, personally?” she challenged. “Because if not, I suggest you stand down immediately.”

The officer curled his lip but relented and snatched the card from her hand, reading it twice with a growing frown. “Diplomatic Immunity?” he sneered. His eyes narrowed as he considered the card, temptation to ignore it or tear it up burning in his eyes for a moment before he seemed to think better of it. “Fine, I’ll call the consulate, they can deal with you,” he snarled as he passed it back. 

“Wonderful,” Weiss replied, waving one hand dismissively. “You may go, and take your attack dogs with you.”

A vein in the officer’s forehead looked ready to burst from his reddening face, but he swallowed his retort. “Let’s go,” he barked at his men. Then he turned back to Weiss. “But you are not to leave the premises. If any of you so much as set foot outside, I will issue and make good on a warrant for your arrest. Am I clear?”

“Crystal,” she said with an angelic smile.

The police officers stomped out, scowling at their would-be prisoners as they went and receiving as good as they gave. The team stormed back out into the security office once they were gone, intent on confronting Oak, but he was nowhere to be seen.

“That snake must have slipped away after trying to have us arrested for saving his daughter,” Carmina spat.

Jay nodded. “Typical politician bullshit, leaving others to clean up his mess.” He looked at Aqua. “What do we do now?”

Before she could respond Yang shoved through the group toward the exit. “You all do whatever you want,” she said. “I’m going to find Ruby.”

Weiss made to follow, stopping to address the security officer watching them all with no small measure of concern. “Give them back their personal effects, would you?” she said. Her tone was polite, but she made it clear it wasn't a request. Then she strode out, following Yang out into the hallway.

“Yang, wait!” Weiss cried out, breaking into an undignified trot as she tried to catch up with her long-legged friend. “Where’s Ruby?”

“I don’t know,” Yang said over her shoulder, not slowing her pace.

“What happened?”

Just like that, Yang lurched to a stop. When Weiss caught up she saw that her eyes were filled with tears. “She got shot,” Yang choked out. “I froze and…and…” but she couldn’t finish.

Weiss gasped, then pulled her into a quick embrace. She wanted to offer comfort, even as she herself needed it, but she stepped back as quickly as she’d stepped in, one single thought pushing aside all others. “Let’s go find her,” she said, grasping the floundering woman’s elbow and guiding her quickly down the hall.

After pestering several desk attendants and nurses, they were directed to a waiting room in the trauma unit. Eventually, a young doctor came out to talk to them. Weiss spoke to her while Yang sat numbly in a corner, her eyes vacant and showing no sign of whether she heard any of what was being said.

When the doctor had given her report, she retreated back through the doors on the far side of the room, leaving them alone. Weiss took a shuttering breath before stepping over to join Yang, catching sight of her charred and broken arm as she did. “Gods, Yang, what happened to you?” she demanded.

“Oh,” she replied, looking down and rotating it in a clumsy circle. “Turns out it’s not invincible.”

“Yang-”

“How is she?”

Weiss chewed her lip, several pressing questions on her mind. She decided to leave them for another time. “No critical organs were damaged, so that’s good.”

“But?”

She blew out a breath. “But she suffered a collapsed lung and they’re still trying to stop the bleeding. She’s lost a lot of blood but there’s a good chance she’ll be fine.”

“A good chance? A good chance?” Yang repeated, shooting to her feet.

“Yang, please,” Weiss said, reaching out and grasping her shoulder only to be shaken off.

“No, I…fuck!” Yang shouted, clenching her teeth. “This is my fault. I saw him and I panicked…”

Weiss shook her head. “Saw who? What are you talking about?”

“The guy who did this to me,” Yang said, waving her charred arm at Weiss. “Both made me need it and then damaged it,” she added. “And shot her.”

“Oh gods,” Weiss said, her hand flying to her mouth. “Yang-“

“No!” she burst in. “No. Don’t. Whatever you’re going to say, don’t. This is my fault. I should have stopped him, I could have stopped him, but I just…” Her rant trailed off suddenly, as though she’d run out of steam, then her knees buckled and she slumped down into a chair. “I fell apart,” she moaned.

Weiss flew to her side and wrapped her arms around her broad shoulders. For a moment she simply held her, letting her cry away her guilt and anguish until the downpour faded to a drizzle.

“This is not your fault,” Weiss said when she thought her words might make it through. “This is the fault of the monster who pulled the trigger.”

“But-“

“No,” she cut in, sliding around to kneel before Yang so she couldn’t avoid looking at her. “There’s no shame in being afraid, Yang,” she insisted. “What happened to you? It was horrible and painful and traumatic. You’re allowed to be affected by it, and I think the sooner you stop trying to pretend you weren’t, the sooner you’ll be able to face it.”

“What if I’m not strong enough?” Yang whispered, the pain in her voice eliciting an echoing ache down in Weiss’s soul. “What if I can’t?”

“You are the strongest person I know,” she replied. “Look at what you’ve done to get here. When Ruby wakes up, safe, that will be because of you.”

“What if-?“

“Don’t even ask that,” she interrupted. “She’s going to be fine,” she said, imbuing her words with all the confidence she had. “She will.”

Yang looked at her, the half-smile on her face shining like the sun peeking around the edge of a storm cloud, just for a moment, before hiding away again. “Thanks, Weiss.”

\--

“Right this way, Miss…?”

“Fiorenza,” Blake replied, wincing at the hated name she gave to the nurse guiding her. She had been tempted to chase after Weiss and Yang, to find out if Ruby was ok. She still burned with the desire to do so, but there was somewhere else she was needed first.

The man nodded, taking her lie as fact and leading her down a hall lined with a series of doors. Blake was heartened by the fact that Sun’s wounds were minor enough that he was already in the recovery unit, but any relief she had thought she would feel was dashed when she saw him lying deathly still on the bed in the corner. The nurse pulled the privacy curtain behind her as she stepped up to his bed, separating them from the other patients in the large room.

Sun’s skin was pale and drawn, and the rise and fall of his chest was quick and slightly uneven. Blake found a metal stool nearby and sank onto it, staring in shock at another person lying wounded in a hospital bed because of her. Another person she’d let herself grow close to, another she’d thought untouchable, another fighting for his life.

And nowhere left to run.

A groan interrupted her thoughts, and she looked up to see a sky-blue eye cracked open, observing her. “Hey,” Sun said, his voice a raspy whisper. “What happened?”

Blake slumped. “Adam, he…stabbed you.”

Sun made a sound, and it took Blake to realize it was a chuckle. “Yeah,” he said, still laughing his pained laugh. “I remember that part. I meant after that. We’re in a hospital, so obviously something else happened. Did we win?”

Blake bit her lip and slumped further. “No,” she whispered, the awful truth sinking in. “Oak…he double-crossed us, tried to have us arrested. Weiss is the only reason we aren't all in jail already.”

“Fuck,” Sun groaned. “Cocoa must be pissed. What’s the plan?”

“She…” Blake looked at him, the rims of her eyes burning as she forced the words out. “She got captured. Back at the facility. Buying time for us…for me.”

Sun struggled to sit a little higher, grimacing the whole way. “Ok,” he grunted. “I guess we’re adding ‘save Coco’ to our to-do list.” He flashed her a smile that was supposed to be charming, but the tension in his jaw and the bandages on his side ruined the effect.

“I…” Blake said, fighting to order her thoughts. “Why aren’t you mad at me?” she demanded.

“Why would I be mad at you?” he asked.

“This is my fault!” she cried. “I went off on my own, and you got hurt because of me! Coco got captured because of me!”

“Blake-“

“No!” she said, shaking her head furiously. “Stop. You asked me why I ran like I did, why I left Yang. This is why. When people get close to me, they get hurt.”

“That’s not true-“

“Yes it is!” she shouted, jumping to her feet. Too late, she remembered that just beyond the flimsy curtain lay others in pain and she lowered her voice, but let go of none of her intensity. “It is. It absolutely is. Do you think I like being alone?” Blake looked away, wrapping her arms around herself. “News flash: I don’t. Leaving Yang was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but seeing what happened to you, what happened to Ruby, what happened to Yang, _again_? That’s why I left, and why I need to go now.”

“You think you’re being selfless,” Sun said, grunting as he worked the rest of the way into a seated position. “But you’re not. Yeah, Adam got me pretty good, but I’d do it again if it meant protecting you.” He waited for her to meet his gaze, his eyes firm and sure. “Something tells me Yang feels the same way.”

“Even if that were true, I won’t allow it,” Blake said, clenching her fists. “Adam is my burden, and I’m not going to sit around and watch him hurt anyone else.”

“It doesn’t really matter what you’ll allow.” Sun looked up, smiling a challenge at her. “Me, the rest of the crew, Yang; we aren’t going to stop trying to help you, so you may as well give up on pushing us out. Besides, you’re not the only one with a bone to pick with Adam.” His hand moved unconsciously toward his bandaged side before balling into a fist. “Rather than making us chase you around, why not work with us to take him down?”

“What if I screw up again and get more people hurt?”

“Look,” Sun said, taking a slow breath. “What happened today? Yeah, you fucked up.” Blake’s face fell, but he shrugged. “I’m not going to sugarcoat it. I know you were doing what you thought was right but you were trying to do it alone. Still, you can’t take the blame for all of this. Is it your fault that Oak is a corrupt piece of shit?” Blake slowly shook her head. “Right. As for Coco, she chose to buy time for us to get out, and she knew the risks when we started the op. You don’t get to own that or use it as an excuse to run off on your own again. Adam isn’t just your problem, he’s all of ours now. And apparently, he's not the only one we've got. All the more reason for us to stick together.”

“I…”

“Blake,” Sun said, holding her gaze. “It’s time to stop running.”

She stared at him, her eyes darting from his drawn face to the wound at his side, her lip quivering as she willed the tears not to fall. Finally, she nodded. “Ok,” she whispered, hugging herself tighter. “I just…I need a minute.”

Sun nodded, always so quick to trust her. To believe in her. Blake forced herself to walk slowly toward the door, every muscle straining to hold herself back from running. From vanishing.

\--

“Miss Schnee?” the nurse said, poking her head into the waiting room and looking around. Yang wasn’t sure why since they were basically the only ones there other than a small, exhausted-looking family in the corner who had come in some time ago and nervously claimed the far corner.

Weiss leaped up, but her voice was politely controlled. “Yes?”

“You can follow me back to recovery.”

Yang climbed to her feet, pain radiating from every inch of her body. She had to grit her teeth and force her complaining muscles to comply, but they did. She and Weiss followed the nurse down a white hallway with regularly spaced doorways emitting various beeps and hums from the myriad of monitors and devices tracking and caring for the prone figures just visible within. At last, they were directed into a room near the end of the hall, and Yang saw her little sister, wrapped up in blankets and connected to a tangle of wires and tubes. Her eyes were closed and her breathing was shallow, but she was alive.

“Ruby,” Yang whispered, falling to her knees by the side of the bed. Every ounce of her attention was on the bed in front of her, nothing else even registering as she looked at the small, frail form. She reached out, but her arm glitched, jerking and sending a jolt of pain up her shoulder. Something about the feeling tore her from the bubble of her narrowed focus, and suddenly she was very aware of the hospital room around her. Of the monitors, of the tubes, of the incessant hums and beeps, all the things she had been surrounded by when she woke up, shy one limb.

She shot to her feet and backed away, her mechanical arm sending another shock into her nerves as though to enhance the horrible memory.

“Yang-“ Weiss saw her wide-eyed panic, but she was too late to head it off.

“I can’t…” Yang muttered, shaking her head and swallowing hard. “I can’t be here, not again.” Tears were falling liberally from her eyes, but it wasn’t enough to obscure the painful memories. "Not again.”

Weiss called out to her, but too late. Yang had already stumbled out the door, wiping at her tear-streaked face one-handedly while the one she had so meticulously designed, the one meant to fix her, hung useless at her side, mocking her.

Yang ran, spurred on by pain both physical and emotional, searching for an escape. She could hardly see and likely wouldn’t have been able to absorb anything if she could, so she stumbled blindly until she found her way to a quiet hall. With no real destination, no plan, no idea of where she should be going or what she should be doing, she leaned against the wall and sank to the floor, her head collapsing onto her one good arm.

She wasn’t sure how long she sat that way, but it would have been much longer had a voice not floated down through her haze of misery. “Miss…Miss?”

Yang looked up, seeing a concerned-looking man in neat scrubs looking down at her. “Sorry, I’m ok,” she mumbled, rising shakily to her feet.

The man smiled, his look sad and knowing. “No need to apologize.” He nodded his head down the hallway. “Why don’t you follow me?” He led her around a few bends, finally stopping outside a plain door marked _Reflection Room_. He gestured to it. “It’s usually quiet,” he said, smiling his encouragement. “Whenever I need to get things sorted out, I tend to find what I’m looking for in there.” With that, he gently patted her on the shoulder and bustled down the hall, back to whatever task he’d been about before he happened upon her.

Yang breathed and steadied herself, briefly considered finding her way back to Ruby, and shook her head. She needed to sort herself out, needed to be strong for her sister. A quiet room might be just the thing for that. She opened the door, stepping in softly so as not to disturb any others who may have been doing some soul-searching of their own within.

\--

Blake wandered the halls aimlessly for a time, and dumb luck had carried her to the little sanctuary. The small plaque outside had labeled it a place for generic reflection, but when she stepped into the small, dimly-lit space with its high ceiling, she realized it was a relic from a time long past. There were benches, and even meditations cushions spread around the room, marking it for what it claimed to be. The far wall, however, had never been replaced, and it revealed the original purpose of the room.

Not many in Remnant were still religious, but it seemed there had been enough of the faithful around when the hospital was built to justify a chapel. Spare, simple, but with a large and beautiful stained glass depiction of the Brothers taking up most of one wall, backlit by what appeared to be glorious sunlight but what must have been artificial given that the room was nowhere near an exterior wall.

Blake walked up to the work of art, alone in the room and glad for the distraction. The entire window was a story and a half tall, starting around waist-height and going most of the way to the vaulted ceiling. The background was split, divided vertically between the two figures. Behind the God of Light was a glorious depiction of nature: the sky a striking blue with emerald greenery below. Small figures that must have been animals pranced and cavorted across the scene. The center was dominated by the golden figure of the god himself. He was tall and broad, his shining flesh rippling with hints of muscle. Atop his featureless face sat a proud set of antlers, and Blake let her eyes rest on them for a time. It had always amused and angered her that, for centuries, humans had worshipped a god with antlers all while caging the faunus. Still, she couldn’t look away, and for a moment felt a pull from deep in her stomach that almost felt like longing. Or belief.

She shook her head and turned to the shadowy figure beside him. The God of Darkness, the younger brother, thin and purple and disturbing in a way that Blake couldn’t quite nail down. The land behind him was jagged and shadowy and empty, devoid of light and life, yet somehow alluring and hauntingly beautiful in this depiction. His horns curled back from his skull, violent and wicked. Those horns were never forgotten, unlike those of his brother. In generations past the faunus were often called the Spawn of the Dark One; their animalistic traits proof of some original sin. Hypocrisy, the one thing that never goes out of style.

Blake stepped back, giving herself space to look at the entire piece. When she’d heard the myth of the Brothers, she’d assumed it was meant as an allegory for the internal struggle of darkness and light everyone undergoes, but something about the glimmering glass before her felt more…literal. She stared at the pair, hands reaching toward each other in a gesture of peace, each seeking balance through the other. Light and Darkness, coming together to help one another.

Quite a fairytale.

Blake heard the door open and close, a pair of heavy feet trying to be quiet entering in between. Other than swiveling an ear she made no indication that she’d noticed, and she decided to leave as soon as they sat, or at least stepped aside. Instead, the newcomer stayed at the door, feet still and breath caught. Blake stood motionless, listening. She was impressed by the window as well, but it was hardly worth holding one’s breath over. Just before she could turn to see what was causing such a reaction, she heard her name.

“Blake?”

She snapped around, the ragged voice instantly striking a chord of recognition. She let out a small gasp of her own as her eyes alighted on Yang. She stared for a time, dumbfounded. Yang’s face and shimmering hair were alight with the otherworldly rays filtering through the stained glass, and for a moment Blake could swear she shone with a golden light that matched the older Brother behind her.

Yang looked back, her eyes wide as she completely ignored the work of art on the wall. She was staring straight at Blake, taking her in. She seemed ready to speak, her mouth moving slightly, but nothing came out. Then she shrank back, shaking her head as her eyes clouded over, and spun to go.

“Wait!” Blake shouted, holding out her hand and all but lunging after her.

Yang’s hand froze on the handle, her head down and shoulders hunched. She didn’t turn back, but neither did she leave. “Why?” she asked over her shoulder, her voice low but far from soft.

Blake nearly fell to her knees to plead; would have, if she had thought it would help. “Please, please don’t go.” With a jerking motion Yang let her hand dropped, and as she turned Blake noticed it twitching disconcertingly, the ugly scoring and cracking on its armored surface staring at her accusingly. When she finally met Yang’s eyes she bit her lip to stifle a gasp. She had expected hate, rage, but all she saw was pain and hurt. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered.

“For what?”

The two flat words struck her. What had she meant, for what? Blake’s response tumbled out. “Yang, for…for everything. It’s my fault that you got hurt in the first place, and now your arm is damaged. It’s all my fault and I’m just so sorry-!”

“Blake, stop.” Yang had taken several steps, closing the gap between them until she was just out of reach. So close, yet so far. Close enough, though, that Blake could see the light sheen of sweat on her brow and the clenched neck muscles at every twitch of the arm.

“It’s hurting you-“

“Yes,” Yang replied, looking down, laughing harshly. “Seems it’s hurting both of us.” With a quick and practiced motion, she disengaged the limb, setting it on a nearby bench with a shake of her head. She looked back up at Blake, steeling herself for something, then fumbled off her jacket and tossed it aside. She stepped forward, holding up her exposed arm. “Look,” she said, reaching out and guiding Blake’s chin back when it drifted away, her eyes seeking guilty refuge in the darkened corner of the room. “Please, just look.”

She did. All things considered, it didn’t look bad. The skin was still pink and scarred toward the end, but compared to the still-bleeding wound in Blake’s traumatized mind it was…fine. Healed. Still, she couldn’t help but feel a renewed sense of guilt seeing the abrupt end where the rest of her arm should have been. Where the hand that had so often cupped her face had been. “I’m sorry.”

“No.” Yang shook her head. “You don’t get to be sorry for this.” Gesturing toward the discarded prosthetic, she added. “Or that.” An odd look snuck over her face and she stepped in, suddenly so close that Blake could feel her body heat. The faunus felt her breath catch, completely unprepared to be so near. She hardly had time to inhale the heady scent that she knew was flowing around her before she felt Yang’s hand slide under the hem of her shirt, freezing her in place. Before she could protest, a warm hand landed directly on the ripple of the scar on her lower abdomen. From that night. She looked up, trembling under the light touch. “Just like I don’t get to be sorry for this.”

The urge to kiss her was so strong that Blake could hardly breathe, but she forced her lungs to keep working, forced her eyes to stay focused, barely. She wanted to reply, wanted to say something, but Yang was on a roll.

“Adam did this. You were trying to do what you thought was right, and he hurt you. I was doing what I thought was right, and he hurt me. That’s all.”

“But you were trying to protect me-“

“Yeah, I was.” Her eyes flashed, almost turning red in the odd light, but she didn’t back up, didn’t remove her hand. “I gave my arm trying to protect you, and it was a small price. I would have gladly given my life.”

“Yang, no-“

“Yes.” Yang’s breath was warm on Blake’s face, but it paled next to the heat of her words, the flame in her eyes. “I would have. I…I still would.” She looked away for a moment but held her ground. “That’s my choice, just like it was your choice to leave.”

And there it was. The words sunk in like a body blow, and Blake waited for her knees to buckle under the force of the strike. She had known that leaving would hurt Yang but had always thought that Adam was the real threat, the real problem. If only she could defeat him, then everything would be forgiven. She’d been a fool. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “I was trying to protect you.”

Yang set her jaw but slowly nodded. “I know.” She took a deep breath and let it out, not using it to vent her anger, no matter how much Blake felt she deserved it. “I know,” she repeated. “But you should have waited for me to wake up, should have given me a choice.” Her voice caught, and Blake saw tears filling her lilac eyes. “I would have gone with you, or…I don’t know, Blake. Anything but being left like that.”

Blake came unstuck, and pulled Yang into her, wrapping her arms around those familiar, broad shoulders. “I know that now,” she responded, feeling her own tears breaking free. “I wish I had stayed. I would give anything to go back and change what I did, but I thought I had no choice. I thought…I thought I would go to jail but you’d be free and safe and that’s all I could think about and I’m so, so sorry.”

“I know.”

\--

They stood for a time, holding each other and letting the flood of emotions they’d each been holding back for months break loose. Eventually, they stepped back, just far enough so that they could look at each other. Yang gazed down at Blake, some part of her insisting she should still be mad, still be doubtful of the intentions of the woman before her. But Yang had launched herself at a building and lost her arm in an attempt to protect Blake at all costs; it seemed hypocritical to call into question a decision poorly made in the heat of the moment as Blake tried to protect her.

“I’m sorry,” Blake whispered again. “I’m so sorry for leaving. I know I can never truly make it up to you, but I’m here now, and I'd like to try if…if you’ll have me.”

Yang nodded, feeling the beginnings of a smile pulling at her lips, even as a hint of sadness continued to suffuse her tone. “Yeah...”

“Yang,” Blake said, reaching up and cradling her face in both hands. “I promise. I’m not leaving.”

Yang’s eyes went wide, but as she stood and gazed down at Blake’s fierce certainty she felt herself begin to believe. Slowly, she reached up and covered one of Blake’s hands with her own, leaning into the touch and letting her eyes close for a moment. Letting herself be held, supported, just for a breath. Then she opened her eyes and nodded again, smiling through her tears. “Ok.”

Then Yang was drifting toward her, slowly but inexorably like a ship coasting toward the dock at the end of a long journey, engines cut but carried along by unstoppable momentum. Blake watched her, perfectly still, her eyes wide and full of hope and fear in equal measure until they fluttered closed. Their lips pressed together, slow and cautious and questioning, the kiss deepening as months of desire and pain and longing spurred them on. When they finally parted they were left breathless and gasping for the same air as they clutched at each other like their lives depended on it.

“I love you,” Blake whispered, her breath tickling against Yang’s lips while the words set her heart alight. Yang basked in the glow of her words a moment too long, it seemed, as Blake’s face suddenly fell. “I’m sorry…maybe you need time…I just-“

Yang interrupted her by pulling her in for another kiss, smiling her way out of it. “Of course I still love you.” Her laugh was high and light, surprising even her with how genuine it sounded. “Gods, of course I do.”

Blake sighed and slumped into her, and Yang leaned down to kiss the top of her head, breathing in the scent of her hair and still chuckling, giddy with exhaustion and the release of emotion that had been pent up too long. For a moment she forgot everything else, and just held the woman she loved and felt almost normal.

She should have known it was too good to be true.

Blake looked up, chewing her lip and looking guilty. “Yang,” she murmured. “I know I just promised I wasn’t going to leave…”

Yang stepped back, her face hard. “But?”

Blake held up her hands in a bid for peace. “But I have to finish the mission, and you know we’re on the clock.”

Yang shrugged. “Ok, so let’s finish it.”

“I…what?”

Yang smirked. “I’m not going to let you rush off into danger without me to watch your back. Let’s do this.”

Blake looked at her damaged arm and then back at her, shaking her head. “No, Yang, you’re not-”

“I’m fine.”

“Are you?”

“Yes,” Yang insisted, pulling herself up to her full height.

“What if we run into Adam again?”

Her shoulders slumped. “I…”

_Coward._

“I…”

_Run, coward._

“Fuck,” she rasped, slumping down on the bench next to her brutalized arm, catching her head in her functioning one. “I’m not ok…I’m not.” Blake crouched down beside her, resting a hand gently on her shuddering shoulder.

“Yang-“

“I’m so afraid,” she burst out, tears streaming down her face as she sat back and looked around wildly. “Gods, just being in this hospital has me shaking all over.”

She held her hand up, providing quivering evidence, and Blake reached out and clutched it, gripping it firmly in both of hers. “It’s ok to be afraid-“

“No, it’s not!” Yang cried. “I almost got Ruby killed. She took those bullets for me because I froze up.”

“I thought we agreed that Adam gets the blame for his actions,” Blake muttered.

Yang snorted a hollow laugh through her tears and looked away. “Yeah, I guess we did.”

Blake waited for her to look back, offering a soft smile when she did. “It’s ok to be afraid, that’s a normal reaction when something bad happens. It doesn’t make you weak.”

“It sure feels like it does.”

“Well, it doesn’t.” Blake set her jaw stubbornly.

Yang wasn’t accustomed to losing in a battle of will. Nevertheless, she looked away first, shaking her head. “I guess…”

“I know,” Blake insisted, grinning at her victory. “You can’t be brave without fear.”

Yang swallowed, looking around the room, her eyes landing on the striking image of the gods for a moment. Something about the beautiful window was comforting, and for a few breaths she let her eyes drink in the gold and purple light it cast. She was still afraid, and she wasn’t sure if her bravery was equal to the task, but it had felt good to admit it.

“Look.” Blake’s hesitant words drew her eyes back down. “I wouldn’t blame you if you want to sit this out. I promise I’ll be careful, and then I’ll be done and back in your arms in no time.” Her hands traced gentle circles on either side of Yang’s. “Either that, or we’ll have to flee the country because I fucked up.”

Yang barked a laugh, gently pulling her hand free to wipe her face as she considered. It was a tempting offer. She was hurt, physically and emotionally; there was probably some wisdom in staying out of danger. But now that she had confessed her fear, spoken her pain aloud, it felt…manageable. Not good by any stretch, but out in the light, it seemed far less daunting. She looked from her still-trembling left hand to the space where her right should have been, then down to the prosthetic laying beside her. It was damaged, like her, but like her, it wasn’t beyond repair. The thing was, she couldn’t fix it without taking a long, hard look at it, and she was starting to realize that applied to her own wounds as well.

“I’m coming,” she stated, looking back at the hopeful expression on Blake’s face. “I’m still terrified, but I’m coming. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I let you go into danger without me.”

Blake nodded, a sad smile on her face. “Much as I don’t want you to risk yourself, I was hoping you’d say that.”

“Even if I can’t promise I won’t fall apart if Adam shows up?”

“You won’t be facing him alone.”

Yang smiled, falling in love with Blake all over again as she drank in the fierce loyalty emanating from her. Despite everything, despite a lifetime of believing that everyone would leave eventually, despite the woman in front of her leaving once already, she felt a small hope budding in her chest.

Foolish thing, hope. Always ready to grant second chances.

Yang rose, gently pulling Blake up with her. “I’m glad you’ll be there to protect me.”

Blake shook her head. “We protect each other, remember?”

Yang smiled. “Yeah, we protect each other.” Slinging on her jacket and scooping up the prosthetic, she offered her arm, and Blake laced hers through at the elbow as they walked toward the door.

“What about Ruby?”

Yang winced. “Fuck,” she moaned. “Come on.”


	32. Time to Say Goodbye

  
It took a few minutes and a helpful orderly’s directions, but they eventually found the right hallway. Yang went rigid as they drew near, twitching slightly at every beep of the many monitors and medical devices around them. Blake looked up at her clenched jaw and patted her arm gently with her free hand. Yang favored her with a thin smile, blew out a breath, and took the final steps toward Ruby’s room. Blake could hear low voices within, and as they crossed the threshold, it was clear that Ruby was awake. It was also clear that she wasn’t alone in her bed. Yang cleared her throat loudly, tension vanishing for a moment, and Weiss scrambled off the narrow mattress where a moment before she’d been cuddled up against Ruby’s side.

Ruby’s eyes went wide. “Yang!”

Blake hung back while Yang laughed her way into the room, ignoring Weiss’s sputtering explanation as she sat on the edge of her sister’s bed, tossing her arm into a nearby chair and reaching out to stroke Ruby’s hair. “How’re you feeling?”

“Kind of like I got shot.” Ruby coughed but smiled up at Yang. “But otherwise good.”

Yang did not smile back. “I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault-“

“No, it's not,” Ruby interrupted, her voice steady if somewhat ragged. “You rescued me.”

“I tried to,” Yang mumbled. “But then you went and rescued me.”

Ruby smiled. “Yeah, well, guess we’re related or something.”

“Yeah, guess so.” Her tone was still heavy, but a smile was tugging at Yang’s lips. Eventually, Ruby wore her down, and she laughed despite herself. “How do you do that?”

“It’s because I’m adorable,” Ruby stated matter-of-factly, then she pointed at her own smiling face. “It’s the dimple.” 

Yang shook her head. “It certainly got you out of trouble with Dad a lot.”

“You’re just jealous. Oh, Blake!” Ruby said, noticing her for the first time. “What are you doing here?”

“Hey, Ruby,” Blake replied, considering her response. “That’s…a long story.”

Ruby looked from her to Weiss to Yang, her eyes narrowing slightly. Blake got the impression that she should give the sisters some privacy, but she wasn’t sure how to excuse herself without looking like she was bolting again. Fortunately for her, Weiss had the same idea.

“I need some coffee. Blake, want to come?”

Blake looked at Yang and was relieved when she nodded. “Sure, that sounds great.”

\--

Yang sighed as they left and turned to face the darkening expression on her sister’s pale face. “I’m sorry,” she said, bracing herself.

“For?”

“For…” she looked around, her eyes hardly registering the room as she thought back to the last time they’d really spoken. “Everything. For all the things I kept from you back in Vale, for lying, for asking Weiss to keep things from you…Was she in bed with you, by the way?”

“Don’t change the subject,” Ruby retorted, though her tone was tempered somewhat by a barely suppressed grin.

“Right, right.” Yang sighed. “I thought I was protecting you at the time, but the truth was that I was afraid. Afraid of what you’d think of me if you knew I was out fighting on the weekends, afraid you’d tell me that I was being dumb by helping Blake-“

“I never would have stopped you from helping her-“

“Fine,” Yang relented. “But you would have told me that it was dumb to go after terrorists.”

“Well,” Ruby considered. “I mean, yeah, because it was.”

They both chuckled at that. “It was,” Yang admitted. “But it was the right thing to do. Hiding everything from you wasn’t, though. That was wrong, and I’m really, really sorry.”

Ruby nodded, then weakly reached up and pulled Yang into an embrace. “I’m sorry, too,” she whispered.

Yang gingerly pulled back. “For what?”

“For getting so angry, for leaving like I did. For not being there while you recovered-“

“You more than did your part,” Yang said, shaking off her sister’s protests. “Though if you could not get kidnapped next time you need space to think, that would be great.”

Ruby grimaced. “Yeah, you won’t get any arguments from me on that. Weiss told me how you two tracked me down, by the way.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, sounds like maybe I should be less angry you spent so much time fighting given what you went through to find me. She didn’t get to the part where you ran into Blake, though. Are you two…?”

Yang rubbed the back of her neck, smiling to herself. “I mean…kind of?”

“I knew it!” Ruby crowed. “So how did you find her?”

“Oh…she found us, actually. Right after we found my mom.”

“What?!”

Yang held her back, her hand gentle but firm as her sister tried to sit bolt upright. “Easy.” Ruby sulked back against the pillow, her gritted teeth evidence that the sudden motion had, indeed, hurt. “Yeah, that was a thing. Turns out Raven runs a mercenary band and is totally a bitch.”

“We kind of knew that last part already.”

Yang nodded. “Yeah, seems she’s also not above kidnapping.”

“No…” Ruby trailed off, not wanting to believe.

“Yes. She’s in charge of the assholes that kidnapped you and the others.”

Ruby’s silver eyes went wide. “What…but why?”

“That’s… the next thing I need to talk to you about,” Yang began. “And likely, the next thing I need to apologize for.”

\--

“I couldn’t help but notice you two were arm in arm when you arrived,” Weiss said as they walked down the hall, following signs to the cafeteria.

“I couldn’t help but notice you were in bed with Ruby when we arrived,” Blake shot back, grinning wickedly.

Weiss deflated, just a touch, but soon regained her award-winning posture. “What of it?” she sniffed.

Blake shook her head, trying and mostly failing to hide her smile. “Nothing, just an observation.”

Weiss looked down her nose at Blake. “Hmph,” was all she had to say. After some minutes of the pair striding down the hall with nothing but the click of Weiss’s heels to accompany them, the icy woman melted; just a bit. “I’m sorry,” she let out. “I guess I’m a bit touchy.”

“It’s ok, sorry for teasing you.”

“No, it’s fine.” Weiss waved her off. “What I meant to say is, I’m glad that you and Yang seemed to have worked things out.”

Blake waited for the ‘but’, sure that it would come any moment. When it didn’t, she lurched to respond. “Oh…uh, thanks.” She thought for a few more steps, letting the memory of the room and the shining Brothers replay in her mind. “It’s not like everything is suddenly perfect, but we definitely needed to talk.”

Weiss smiled sidelong at her. “I know, and I’m glad you did.”

“Me too.” As the buzz of conversation from the cafeteria drew nearer, Blake looked over at her. “So…you and Ruby?”

“What are you…” Weiss began, her tone rising toward self-righteous before she let her act drop. “We also…talked,” she amended, looking away bashfully. “There’s still plenty to say, but it was a long time coming.”

Blake reached out and grasped her shoulder, stopping them both and meeting her eyes. “I’m happy for you, really.”

Weiss’s smile was small and private but so genuine and warm that it nearly broke Blake’s heart. “Thank you.” The words were hardly out of her mouth before her eyes drifted to the hall beyond, where urgent voices were conferring. “Shit!”

Blake whipped around, instantly recognizing the Atlas military uniforms surrounding the official speaking to the desk attendant at the end of the hall. “Shit!”

“Yes, I believe I covered that. Come on!” Weiss grabbed her hand and dragged her back the way they had come, breaking into a run when they were around the first corner.

By the time they made it back to Ruby’s room, they were flushed and panting. “What is it?” Yang demanded.

“Atlas…they’re here.” Blake gasped.

“Fuck.”

Weiss rolled her eyes. “Well put.” She had apparently already forgotten her own less than eloquent response. “Anyone not interested in going either to Atlas or Vale should probably be making themselves scarce.”

Blake’s ears flattened to her head, thinking of the less than friendly reception she no doubt could expect in Atlas. “I need to find the others.”

Yang nodded, turning back to Ruby. “I’m sorry, this is sooner than expected, but…”

“No, I get it,” Ruby said, taking a deep breath and smiling up at her sister. “Could you let someone else save the world next time, though?”

Yang snorted. “I’ll certainly try.”

Blake suddenly felt terribly guilty. Yang had traveled so far, risked so much, for Ruby. It felt wrong to drag her away now that they were finally united. “Yang, you don’t have to-“

“Yes she does,” Ruby interjected, rolling her eyes. “She totally does.”

Yang’s nodded. “Are you sure you’re going to be ok, Rubes?”

One small hand rose from the blanket to pat her face. “Of course.”

Weiss stepped forward. “I’d like…I’m going to stay with her.” Relief washed over Yang’s face at the proclamation.

Ruby grinned. “See, I’ve got my White Knight looking after me. Come back safe. I’ll be waiting here.”

Weiss blushed furiously as the sisters laughed and cried and embraced, and then finally parted. Yang grabbed her discarded arm, shaking her head as she looked at it and then handing it to Blake as she stepped over to wrap Weiss in a crushing hug. “I don’t know what I would have done without you,” she murmured into her snow-white hair.

Weiss smiled and returned her embrace. “Probably gotten yourself killed doing something reckless.”

“Oh, right, because we were so cautious on this trip.”

“Fair point,” Weiss allowed, her laughter tinkling over Yang’s shoulder.

“I know I already owe you more than I can ever repay-”

“You can repay me by coming back in one piece,” Weiss interjected. Then added. "Both of you."

Yang grinned as she stepped back. “Deal.”

"So, what do you need?"

Yang accepted her arm from Blake and took a deep breath, looking back at Weiss. “I need you to take care of Ruby and get her back to Vale. Don’t wait for us.”

Ruby struggled to sit up “Now hold on-!”

“I will,” Weiss declared, to both sisters, looking back at Yang once her iron stare had quelled Ruby’s dissent. “I promise.”

Yang let the promise hang between them for a beat. “Thank you. For everything.”

“Of course.”

She gave the sulking Ruby a smile. “I’ll see you soon, sis. I love you.”

Ruby blew out an exasperated breath, her scowl slowly giving way to a grudging smile. “Yeah yeah, you better. I love you too.”

The sounds of angry voices and thudding boots found their way into Blake’s sensitive ears. “Yang,” she said, wincing at rushing such a tender moment. “We need to go.”

“Yeah, I… yeah.” With one last, apologetic look, she turned, nodding to Blake that she was ready. “Let’s go.”

They strode through the hallway, trying their best not to look like they were running while Blake’s mind raced. She was tempted to bludgeon herself with the fact that their current predicament was in no small part her fault, but she shoved that aside. There would be time for guilt and blame later; now was the time for action.

She tapped her earpiece, taking a breath as she heard it click on. “Is anyone there?” she muttered, trying not to move her mouth too much, looking around furtively for anyone in uniform, either Atlas or Mistral.

After a few tense moments, a voice responded. “Blake?” It was Yatsuhashi.

She let out a relieved breath. “Yes. Atlas is here; we need to go. Where are you guys?”

“In a waiting room near Sun. They won’t let all of us back at once-“

Blake stopped suddenly, looking around to get her bearings, seeing a familiar hallway leading away to her left. “Get out of there. That’s the first place they’ll look.”

“Where should we go?”

Blake tugged on Yang’s arm, pulling her toward the only quiet room she could think of. “I know a place.”

\--

Yang sat in the dimly lit room, staring up at the admittedly beautiful stained glass window. She hadn’t really looked before, but it was masterfully made. What was more, the light it cast in the room was fascinating and unsettling at the same time. It made the air feel alive. On one side, golden and warm and fuzzy, on the other purple and heavy and calm. She hadn’t thought much about it, but she had instinctively sat on the side of the God of Light, basking in the comforting glow. Blake hadn’t sat at all. She was pacing rapidly back and forth between the two sides of the room; one moment bathed in light, the next a shadow within a shadow.

After what seemed like an eternity, the door to the sanctuary snapped open, and the remains of RLIC joined them. Without Sun and Coco, they seemed…diminished. Mostly, they looked beaten and tired, but Carmina simply looked furious. “Well?” she demanded as Yatsuhashi slowly closed the door behind them. “We’re here. What do you want?”

Blake jerked to a halt. “What do you mean, what do I want? I want us not to get captured-“

“What happened to diplomatic immunity?” Jay drawled, plopping down opposite Yang, kicking his feet up on a nearby bench.

“That just means we won’t get arrested here,” Blake explained. “We’ve been operating off the books. Do you think that will get us a warm welcome in Atlas?”

Carmina scoffed. “You mean: do we think a member of the White Fang will get a warm welcome in Atlas?”

“Ex-member,” Yang corrected.

“Whatever.” Carmina glared a challenge at Blake, whose head had slumped.

She pulled it back up slowly, taking a deep breath to steady herself. “You’re right. If I go back to Atlas, I will likely be arrested. Probably won’t see the outside of a cell for the rest of my life.” Yang’s breath caught in her throat at the thought, but Blake’s voice was steely, her gaze firm as she looked around the room. “But that doesn’t change the fact that our mission here isn’t done. We need to stop this war, and we can’t do that if we’re whisked away to Atlas to be questioned.” The group was silent, looking at each other uncomfortably, not at all responding the way Yang would have expected. Blake seemed to feel the same way. “What? What is it?”

When no one else spoke up, Aqua cleared her throat, pushing forward off the wall where she’d been leaning. “We, uh…we talked about it,” she said, her voice rasping with emotion. “We lost, bad. It might be best to bail before we make things worse.”

Blake stepped back like she’d been struck. “You just want to quit?”

Aqua shrugged, looking around for support. Yatsuhashi stepped forward. “We think that providing what we know to Atlas might help quell tensions, or at least bring the war to a halt more quickly-”

“I can’t believe you,” Blake cut in, looking from one despondent face to another. “You’re going to just hand things over to Atlas and hope for the best?” When her eyes landed on Carmina, still fuming in the corner, she reached for her last hope. “What about Coco?”

“You don’t get to worry about her,” the pilot shot back. “Or have you forgotten that it’s your fault she was captured in the first place?”

Blake absorbed the assault, her clenched jaw the only sign that the words had landed. She didn’t let it slow her down, though. “You’re right,” she agreed. “It is my fault, and I want to make it right.”

“Well, isn’t that noble of you?”

Blake let Carmina’s remark hang in the air for a moment, allowing it to dissipate rather than tackling it head-on. “Look, we don’t have a lot of time, so here it is.” She looked around at every member of the bedraggled group before she went on. “I’m staying. Call it what you want. Maybe it is selfish; maybe I’m just trying to save my own skin, but I’m going to try to save the world from war while I’m at it. If I can, I’m going to save Coco as well.” Blake looked down for a moment before pulling herself back upright. “I owe her at least that much. I was hoping you all might feel the same and join me.”

There was a long silence. Yang held her breath, knowing that adding her support would do little. She wasn’t the one that needed to be won over. The rest looked to each other, uncomfortable with their earlier decision but unsure if their teammates would agree to change it. Jay stared up at the glowing glass and the Brothers, everything about his posture projecting boredom and ease, but his eyes looking far from restful. It was Carmina who broke first, glaring at the floor with such intensity Yang worried the carpet might catch fire, and her growl of disgust was not a reassuring sound.

“So, what?” she spat, looking at Blake. “You’re in charge now? You call the shots?”

“I didn’t say that-“

“You kind of did,” Jay interrupted, not taking his eyes off of the Brothers.

Blake floundered. “Someone has to, and all of you are just giving up-“

“We made a decision. As a team,” Aqua said, trying to soothe the flaring tempers around her.

Carmina was not soothed. “Not all of us agreed with that decision!” Her nostrils flared and her jaw muscles bunched as she glared around the room, her eyes no less heated when they landed on Blake. “But at least it was made by people who stick around, rather than running off whenever they feel like it, and leaving others to clean up their mess.”

Blake slumped. “You’re right.” Her voice was low and woven with her guilt, but somehow it filled the room. “You’re right,” she repeated. “I’m the one who runs away. I’ve done it my whole life, and every time, others pay for it.” Her eyes landed on Yang, and in them lay the burden of knowing how badly she’d hurt her all those months ago. It was everything Yang could do not to spring to her feet and embrace her. To tell her she forgave her, that she loved her, that they never had to speak of it again. Instead, she could only offer her a look infused with those desires and was pleased to see it seemed to give Blake a measure of strength. “But that’s how I know that running isn’t the answer now. I screwed up. I’m not asking you to forgive me, but Coco is counting on us. The world is counting on us.” She let out a breath, her voice softening slightly even as her shoulders squared. “I’d love to stand here and make some proclamation about how I’ll do it alone, but the truth is: I can’t. I can’t make everything right on my own. I need you, all of you. Please.”

The silence that followed rang with her words, resonating through everyone and everything in the small room. Blake stood boldly before them, lit by the glow of the Brothers themselves, no trace of shame as she left herself defenseless and vulnerable, awaiting their judgment.

“Fuck,” Carmina growled, striding forward. “I’ll stay,” she declared, looking up at Blake as she drew level with her and thrusting out her finger. “But only for Coco.” She turned to face the room, her arms crossed and her face a challenge.

“I’m staying,” Ivy announced. Yang had nearly forgotten the girl was there, but she strode forward now. Her hands, twisting around one another as always, stumbled to a halt and bunched themselves into fists. “It’s what Coco would want. For us to finish the mission.”

“She’s right,” Yatsu added, his deep voice soft but sure as he stepped up and smiled down at the codebreaker.

Hark, who had been watching them all silently, sighed deeply. “This is a terrible idea,” he pointed out.

“Yeah, and?” Carmina responded. “You in or not?”

Hark gave her a lopsided smile and stepped forward. “I’m in, obviously.”

Jay shrugged when he saw the way the tide was rolling. “Screw it,” he announced. “Why not?”

Aqua smiled, though whether because she liked the decision that was being made or because she was relieved not to be the one making it, Yang couldn’t tell. Either way, she nodded. “Well, alright then. I’m in too.”

“Hey, aren’t you forgetting someone?” They all snapped their heads toward the door to find Sun limping through. He had stolen scrubs from somewhere but clearly been unable to find shoes, and from the way he held his hand to his side was far from comfortable.

“Sun, no,” Blake said. “You need to stay here and heal.”

“Yeah, I considered that,” he replied with a grin. “But it sounded lame. I’m coming, that’s that.”

Before anyone could argue further, their earpieces came to life. When Yang saw their hands go to their ears, she grabbed her own from her pocket and shoved it back in, just in time to catch Weiss’s frantic warning. “… hope you’re listening to this. Atlas is sweeping the building with the help of Mistral Police; they just passed Ruby's room. If you’re still here, you need to go. Now.”

“You heard the lady,” Sun chirped. “Time to go.”

Blake glared at him but nodded. “You’re right. Aqua, help him. Mina, tell me you can get us out of here.”

The pilot bristled at the order. Then she shrugged. “Our ship is probably still anchored. Not much I can do about that.”

“There’s plenty that I can do,” Yatsu offered.

Blake patted him on the shoulder as she jogged over to the door, poking her head out and looking around before leaning back in the room. “Perfect. Everyone back to the ship. The hall looks clear.”

One by one, or two by two in the case of Sun leaning heavily on Aqua, they filtered out, following the pilot back toward their ship as Blake kept watch. Yang was last through the door, and she nudged her gently as she passed, signaling that it was time to go. “You know,” she muttered as they followed the others down the hall. “It’s kind of hot when you do the whole boss-lady thing.”

Blake barked a laugh. “I’ll keep that in mind,” she responded, shaking her head and smiling.

“Do,” Yang said, grinning back.

\--

They hurried through the halls, trying their best not to look like they were running from anything. Jay swept ahead of them while Blake watched behind, but the path back to the dock was clear save for scurrying doctors and nurses who had little time to spare for the odd group. Sun drew more than a few second looks, but he made a point of stepping away from Aqua and walking on his own when he did, not eager to be subjected to an impromptu examination that would likely bring up some uncomfortable questions.

Blake was beginning to hope that they would sneak out completely unseen, that it might really be that easy. Then she heard Jay curse. He stopped everyone just before the door that led outside, and after cracking it and peering out, he turned back and shook his head. “We are totally fucked.”

“What is it?” Blake asked, moving to the front.

Jay looked at her for a beat, as though deciding if he was ready to accept her as the de facto leader, then made up his mind and gave his report. “They must have realized we’d try to get out the way we came in. I count more than a dozen waiting around our ship.”

“Damn!” Blake let the frustration pass, but it was hard not to feel like she was already failing. Her options felt incredibly limited, time was running out, and there was nowhere to hide on the open platform separating them from their ship. “Is the ship still anchored?”

Jay cracked the door again, but Blake knew what the answer would be before he turned back. “Looks like it.”

She turned to the big hacker. “Yatsu, can you hack it?”

He stretched his neck side to side, an oddly physical gesture for the mental labor he’d have to undertake. “I can take care of it when we get to the ship. Won’t take more than a few seconds.”

“We may not even have that long.” Blake looked over at Aqua. “You got any surprises left for our friends out there?”

The sapper grinned back at her. “Flashbangs, smoke, either of those work?”

Blake nodded. It wasn’t going to be pretty, but it would work. It had to. “Can I get all of the above?”

“I’ll need my hands free…”

“Yang, take Sun.” Blake surprised herself as the orders flowed out of her mouth, but it was starting to feel right. It was nice having a team. “Hark, Ivy, stay close to Yang. Jay, you make sure Mina gets to the cockpit. Yatsu, do your thing. We make a break for it as soon as Aqua gets their attention. Everyone clear?” Nods all around, no questions, no arguments. It wasn’t much of a plan, but it seemed to be enough. Had to be enough. “Good, Aqua, if you would?”

“With pleasure, boss.” Her tone was gently mocking, and unless Blake was mistaken, noticeably relieved. Either way, the lanky woman guided Sun over to Yang and stepped forward. Blake had just enough time to notice that Yang only sneered a little at her burden, but then she was watching as Aqua pulled a handful of small objects from various pouches inside her jacket. “Ready?”

Blake nodded once, hoping she wasn’t about to lead their mission to an abrupt and early end.

\--

Several pops and bangs sounded beyond the door, followed immediately by shouts and curses as the dazed soldiers were enveloped in a cloud of thick gas. Yang watched Blake wave everyone through, adjusting herself further under Sun as she prepared to rush forward, eliciting a groan from him as she did. She fought down her jealousy as he leaned on her, with some success. Enough that she wasn’t going to leave him behind, but not enough that she wasn’t a little tempted.

Then they were running and there was no more time for anything beyond putting one foot in front of the other while bracing Sun and trying not to drop her useless arm. The smoke was so dense she couldn’t see anything but the vague forms of Hark and Ivy right in front of her. She prayed that they could see someone further ahead. She stumbled forward for what felt like ages, and just as she saw the looming shape of what had to be their ship, something caught her leg, nearly bringing her and Sun to the ground. Panic rose in her chest as she looked down and saw a uniformed arm that ran back to what must have been a soldier, coughing and moaning on the ground but still trying to do his job. Before she could formulate a plan beyond ‘shake him off,’ her prosthetic was snatched from her hand.

“Hey-!” she called, but was interrupted by a swift thunk. The hand around her leg went limp, and she turned to see Sun smiling apologetically and holding out her arm.

“Sorry, it was the first thing I thought of,” he said as she snatched it back.

“I…thanks.” Yang offered him a grudging nod and finished dragging him to what was, indeed, the ship. It seemed that nearly everyone had gotten there before them. Nearly everyone. “Where’s Blake?” Yang cried, looking around in panic.

“I’m here,” Blake coughed, at first no more than an impression in the smoke before she burst through the last swirling curtain into the hold. “Mina?” she barked before her eyes even cleared.

“Engines are almost ready, but we’re still hooked!”

“Yatsu?” Blake called.

The big man was hanging over the side of the ship, looking at something. “Yeah…yeah. Ok.”

“How long?”

“Uh…” He trailed off as he sat down and spun, planted his feet on the side of the dock, then gripped the cable of the anchor in his big hands. “Not long.”

He took a deep breath and seemed to transform. The shy, friendly computer wiz who loved to cook had disappeared, and in his place sat a giant: an enormous mountain of bone and muscle and sinew. On his next breath, he gritted his teeth and started to pull; every muscle in his forearms standing out like steel cords. After a few seconds, he let loose a grunt, and along with it came the creaking of metal bending and deforming. His grunt became a growl and then a roar, and with a horrible shudder and wrenching sound, the anchor cable came loose from the dock.

“Go!” he shouted at the wide eyes of the onlookers.

Luckily for all of them, Carmina was not of a mind to sit around and gawk like everyone else, and they were clear of the dock before Jay had finished pulling Yatsu back inside and closing the door. As the large panel finally slid shut, Blake reached down and helped the big man to his feet. “Was that some form of super-secret hacking I’ve never heard of?” she snarked.

“Kinetic hacking,” he panted, his face red as he dusted off his hands. “It’s cutting edge stuff.”

Blake patted him appreciatively on the shoulder. “Either way, it sure as hell got the job done. Thanks.”

Yatsu nodded, a small smile on his face as he turned to find a quiet corner. Yang watched as he sat and took several measured breaths. Gone was the roaring giant, the enormous beast of man; he was their friendly hacker once again, a slight tremor in his hands the only sign of the adrenaline that was still coursing through his veins. Toward the front of the ship, Blake was conferring quietly with Mina. Her transformation into the leader of the group was every bit as startling as Yatsu’s had been, but it didn’t look like it was about to fade away in a few breaths. Yang couldn’t say she minded; leadership suited Blake, and she couldn’t help but feel more than a little proud.

It wasn’t until Sun cleared his throat awkwardly that she remembered he was still draped across her shoulders. She braced them both against the swaying of the ship as Carmina maneuvered them away from the hospital, dragged him over to one of the beds hanging from the wall, and gently lowered him to a seated position on its edge. He took a few steadying breaths, wincing as his ribs moved, then looked up at her. “Thanks.”

“Oh, uh, yeah. No problem.” She started to turn, then stopped. “Thank you again…for dealing with the dude who grabbed me. That was quick thinking.”

“Heh, no problem. Thanks for lending me a hand.”

Yang stared at his expectant smile, fighting her own. She would not give him the satisfaction of making her laugh. Especially not with a pun that bad. “Fuck.” She turned away as her face split into a grin, looking back at him as a laugh escaped her parted lips. “That was terrible. How dare you?”

“You liked it.”

“Gods, I can’t believe you.” But she kept chuckling. It felt good to laugh, even if it was Sun who’d inspired it. She had done far too little of that in the past several months. Her smile quickly faded at that thought.

“Hey, uh,” Sun muttered, looking around and finding them momentarily alone. “I’m sorry, by the way.”

“For what?”

“If I had known…the situation, I never would have tried to make a move on Blake.”

Yang took a deep breath and blew it out through her nose, considering her response. She hadn’t wanted to talk about it, hadn’t thought he would, but now that it was out in the open, she found she couldn’t be properly angry. He hadn’t done anything wrong. No one had, not really. “Look, you didn’t know, so no worries.”

“Yeah, but I just want you to know that I would never try to come between-“

“I said it’s fine, Sun. Really.”

He nodded. “Ok, cool. So, we good?”

“Yeah,” Yang replied, surprised that she meant it. “We’re good.” She shook her head. It seemed it wasn’t her day for holding grudges. “You know, you’re alright, Sun.”

“Alright?” Sun gasped. “Just alright? I thought I’d at least make it to decent, maybe with a reasonable path to spectacular.”

“Don’t push it,” Yang deadpanned, much to Sun’s delight.

\--

Blake ducked out of the cockpit, looking around the hold at the team, her team, perched on various surfaces and waiting. Waiting for her.

“What’s the plan, boss?” Jay tossed out when he saw her appear.

Boss. No hint of sarcasm, no challenge or doubt. Blake felt a shiver go down her spine that was equal parts fear and thrill. She pushed both away. She needed to focus, prove herself to this team that had very real reasons to doubt her. “We’re headed back to the hideout.”

“You sure that’s safe?” Sun asked.

Blake looked over at him, momentarily shocked to find Yang standing by his side, closer than strictly necessary. She brought her mind back to the questions. “No,” she admitted. “But it’s all we have. We need equipment and information, and that’s the best place we’ve got. Besides, it’s just for one night. By tomorrow we’ll either have succeeded or…well, either way, we won’t need it tomorrow.” Everyone exchanged grim looks at that, but no one argued or looked ready to change their minds, so Blake took it as a tacit agreement. “We won’t be going in blind, though. I’m going to have Mina drop me off first so I can scout it out, make sure it’s not compromised.”

“I can’t let you do that.” Jay swung to his feet and strode forward, his face hard.

Blake squared her shoulders, unsure if she was ready to quell her first rebellion. “Oh?”

“No. We already lost one. I’m not letting you go into a potential trap alone.”

She started, narrowing her eyes as she reevaluated him. “You volunteering?”

“Who else?”

Blake decided she would never understand the workings of the odd gunner, but he had a point. “Fine,” she relented. “The two of us will scout it out. Mina will drop the rest of you off in pairs around the city. If it’s clear, you come join us. If not, find a place to hide out for a bit until we can arrange an extraction. Either way, once Hark has had time to get us some intel, we’ll come up with the next steps.” She looked around, happy to see that the information gatherer was already tapping away on his scroll, no doubt collecting data that would save their lives at some point. “Questions?”

Aqua looked around, then nodded, grimacing as she spoke. “Not to be a pain, but that’s a little light on details. What’s the mission?”

Blake grinned, doing her best to project the confidence that Coco would in her place. “Simple: we stop Oak.”

“Cool, cool,” Aqua said, looking at her like she was crazy. “And how, exactly, do we do that?”

Blake shrugged, but her smile widened. She couldn’t tell if she was enjoying herself or just giddy to the point of mania, probably a bit of both. “First, we get on the ground. Then we figure out the next step.” She hoped her projected confidence was catching, but as the silence grew, Blake prepared herself to be immediately deposed, if not tossed straight out the nearest hatch. Shockingly, neither happened.

Aqua shook her head, eventually letting out a soft laugh. “Fair enough.”


	33. Stepping Up

The blazing sun of the morning gave way to a cloudy afternoon, and the cool breeze that had been dancing through the crowded streets took on greater urgency. Yang looked up at the swirling, grey sky as much to look for the shadows of airships as to observe the weather. “Looks like rain.”

Ivy, seated across from her at the quiet cafe they’d chosen for their wait, didn’t respond. She was still picking at the fabric of her uniform. “I hate disguises,” she muttered.

Yang sighed, taking a sip of her tea with her left hand and bobbling her useless arm on her lap with restless legs. “I know.” As she drank, the seam of her own ill-fitting jacket dug into her back near her armpit. “Me too.”

Ivy looked up at her for a moment, then looked away with a smile, her hands still worrying at every crease and loose thread on her clothes. The only interruption was when one darted out to grasp her mug so she could take a sip. “Good tea, at least.”

“Mhmm,” Yang agreed, looking around nervously. “Blake pointed it out to me from the sky. She knows her stuff.”

“She’ll be ok, you know.”

Yang blinked and looked up. Ivy was suddenly still, looking directly at her. As those emerald eyes bored into her, she had the distinct impression that they could see and decipher her thoughts as easily as the encrypted messages she routinely cracked. “I hope you’re right.” 

“I am.”

Yang smiled, oddly comforted by the enigmatic woman’s certainty. “Thanks, I…needed to hear that.” Ivy nodded then looked away, back to fussing with the fabric of her uniform. The two sat in companionable silence for a few more minutes before their radios crackled to life.

“It’s all clear.” It was Blake, sounding very much unharmed. “You guys can come in.”

The pair stood and listened as everyone responded to say they were on their way. “Told you,” Ivy said, a sly smile on her face.

Yang laughed. “Yes, you did. Now come on, let’s go.”

Ivy nodded, looking up briefly as they made their way down the street. “Do you think it’s going to rain?”

\--

Blake paced by the door of the dusty old shop. Everyone had reported in by radio, she had no reason to suspect that anything was wrong, but she couldn’t shake the fear that she’d gotten someone hurt or captured.

Someone _else_ hurt or captured.

What was she doing? What right did she have to lead when she’d brought nothing but pain and disaster to everyone, including the original leader of the group she was now trying to head? It would have been better if they’d laughed at her when she’d asked them to stay, left her alone to clean up her own mess, then she wouldn’t be here waiting to find out if-

There was a knock at the door. Blake scrambled over, checking the video feed and finding it filled with Yatsuhashi's massive form. It was only when she swung the door open that she could see Sun at all, practically dangling from one of the big man’s arms.

“You look like shit,” Blake observed as she ushered them in.

“It’s nice to see you too,” Sun grumbled. He didn’t deny it though, he was grimacing and grunting with every step, despite Yatsu taking most of his weight.

“I think we have some basic medical supplies downstairs,” Blake said, flinching as though she could feel the pain of his wound flexing. Wishing she could. Feeling she deserved it.

Yatsu nodded and guide him along, but Sun reached out and grabbed Blake’s arm. “I’m fine, Blake,” he insisted. “Don’t waste time beating yourself up about this. We have more important things to do.”

Blake started to argue, then stopped herself. “You’re right,” she agreed. “But I’d still like you to go get patched up and rest. I don’t intend for you to fight tomorrow, but I might need you on your feet.”

Sun smiled, as though running around and putting himself in danger was the perfect remedy for his ills. “You got it.”

Blake shook her head as Yatsu helped him down the stairs, resuming her pacing once they were gone. Her plan was still practically nonexistent, and it was unfortunate to know she’d be without Sun’s full skill set. If there was any breaking and entering required she would have to do it, likely alone. But where would she be breaking in? To what end?

How did Coco come up with her plans? Did she wrestle with doubts, uncertainty?

Another knock interrupted her thoughts. This time it was Hark, staring up at the well-hidden camera while Aqua looked around the alley for any signs of trouble. Both smiled their way in, the tall sapper patting Blake on the shoulder as she passed.

Blake blew out a sigh. Hark was going to be crucial. She needed information, he had it. Coco always knew how to use the many strengths of her team, weaving them together as flawlessly as she put together her disguises while seamlessly covering their weaknesses. Could Blake pull that off?

The storm that had been threatening for the past hour started to make good on its promise with a steady drizzle. The sound of rain pattering against the sagging roof overhead was oddly soothing to Blake; it gave her something to focus on other than her shortcomings. She let the constant rhythm draw her mind back to her childhood home. She used to sit in her room on days like this with the door to the balcony open, watching the rain fall and reaching one hand into it while the rest of her stayed safe and dry. A few times she’d even dared to step out into the falling sheets of water, leaping back a moment later sputtering and laughing and shaking off droplets as she scrambled for a towel. Usually, though, she’d simply stand at the edge of the doorway, just beyond the reach of the falling rain. There was something magical about it; on one side everything was dry and warm and quiet, and on the other it was wet and chill and full of the sound of huge drops of water bursting on smooth wood. Two worlds, so different yet pressed so closely together that the division could be crossed with a single step.

The rain was falling in earnest, now, as if to more closely match her memory, and Blake heard loud complaints and laughing shrieks before the next knock sounded. She barely flicked her eyes up to the camera before she opened the door; Yang’s voice was unmistakable. Ivy came in first, holding her jacket above her head and laughing, with Yang smiling as she slid in behind, her soaked hair dripping water down her back.

“I’m going to go change,” Ivy announced, plunging down the stairs.

Blake lingered for a moment, standing again on the dividing line between the rain and the safety of a dry room, albeit a far less cozy one. She extended a hand, feeling the deluge of cool drops on her fingertips before closing the door. When she turned she found Yang watching her fondly. “What?” she asked, drying her hand self-consciously on her pants.

“Nothing,” Yang said, her voice gentle and soft. “You just looked…at peace, for a moment.”

Blake pretended to sulk. “You saying I’m not a peaceful person?”

“I mean…”

She laughed. “Fair enough. I was just remembering something.”

“Must have been something good.”

Blake nodded, the sensation of home slowly fading. “Yeah, it was.”

“Was it about me?” Yang winked and raised her eyebrows suggestively.

“Not everything is about you,” Blake snarked.

Yang grinned. “Just most things.”

“You are unbelievable,” Blake retorted. She stepped forward, almost involuntarily. It was like they had their own gravitational pull. Yang tossed her battered arm aside and pulled Blake the rest of the way, kissing her urgently. Blake responded in turn, and they likely would have gotten quite carried away in the dusty old shop had the final member of the team not chosen that moment to arrive. At the second round of knocking Blake finally pulled herself away, turning awkwardly and throwing the door wide without even checking the camera. Fortunately for her, the person waiting wasn’t an enemy. It was, in fact, a very wet and equally grumpy looking Carmina, holding several bags.

“That explains it, you were too busy making out to open the door for me. Awesome,” she grumbled as she pushed her way in and kicked the door shut behind herself. “Thanks for getting dinner, Mina,” she mocked in a high pitched voice. “Thanks for always saving our asses and flying us out of harm's way, Mina. We’d all be dead and starving without you-“

“Thank you, Mina,” Blake interrupted, taking the bags from her and leading the way downstairs while Yang awkwardly coughed and picked up her discarded arm. “We would all be dead without you.”

“Yeah well, at least you know that,” she muttered, brushing rain off of her jacket as she trudged down after her. Blake winced when she added. “And you should consider spending less time playing grab-ass and more time coming up with a plan to save Coco. Just a thought.”

She was saved from responding when they reached the basement and were greeted with cheers, though given the speed with which Blake was relieved of her burden it was likely more for the food than for those carrying it. Once everyone had claimed a few containers they arrayed themselves on the semi-circle of couches, and Blake found herself very conspicuously standing before them.

Her appetite vanished as she looked at their expectant faces and she set aside the dish she’d only just opened. As she stood before them her mind began to race, any semblance of a plan she may have had swept away by the fierce deluge of worry and fear. What if she couldn’t come up with anything? What if she did and she failed? What if someone got hurt?

“I…” she started, swallowing hard and shaking her head. She fought to find something, anything, that might inspire them to follow her. But there was nothing. Her shoulders slumped. “I can’t do this.”

Yang was halfway to her feet before Aqua stopped her with one long arm. Clearing her throat, the sapper stood and met Blake’s eye. “All due respect, the time for self-doubt has passed. It doesn’t matter if you think you can or can’t, you must.”

“But I’m not Coco,” Blake protested, her eyes wide. “I can’t just come up with a brilliant plan that will work perfectly on the spot. You should lead Aqua, or maybe we should put it to a vote.”

Aqua shook her head. “No, I’m not the one to lead this op. Or any op, if I can help it.”

“Besides,” Mina said, her scowl far from encouraging. “You dragged us back here, so you can’t bail now. You will see this through.” It was closer to a threat than a pep talk, but Blake found it oddly reassuring not to have a choice. A hint of a smile played beneath Mina’s fierce eyes as she added, “And Coco’s amazing, but let’s not put her on a pedestal. Her plans are usually just her flying by the seat of her pants. The only reason they work is she stays one step ahead of everyone else while she does it.”

“That,” Aqua agreed. “And she knows how to ask for help. She doesn’t try to do it alone, and you shouldn’t either.” Spreading her arms and offering a lopsided grin she added, “Shit, you’ve got the best that RLIC has to offer. Or at least, the best that’s left after everyone else was driven out of the kingdom.”

This time Blake laughed, and Aqua flopped back down, her point made. “I…ok.” Blake took a deep breath, looking around. “Does anyone have a marker?”

“I think so…” Yatsu said, hopping up to go rummage through the things scattered across his work station. “Here!”

Jogging back he handed it to Blake, settling back down on the couch as she turned toward the white plaster wall behind her and took a deep breath. “Ok, let’s start with what we need to do tomorrow.” In big block letters she wrote:

> **STOP GLOBAL WAR**

Then stepping to the side, on the same level she added:

> **SAVE COCO**

“Oh is that all?” Jay snarked.

“It’s only two things,” Blake shot back with a wry grin. “And I consider them of equal priority. Anyone want to debate that?”

“No,” Carmina stated, looking around and daring anyone to contradict her. “They don’t.”

“Good.” Blake nodded, looking at the words she’d written and tapping her jaw with the capped marker. “Our main problem on the war front is Oak.” She added his name below. “We stop him, we stop all of this.”

Jay raised his hand. “You suggesting we kill him?”

Blake waved him off. “No, of course not. Not only would that be immoral, it probably wouldn’t work. Who knows what would happen in the aftermath?” She thought for a moment. “No, we need to discredit him.”

“What about Councilmen Fig and Leaf?” Hark asked. “They’re also a problem.”

Blake nodded, writing their names below Oak’s. “What else?”

Yang jumped in. “The White Fang.”

Blake frowned, considering their likely role in everything. She fought her knee-jerk impulse to always label Adam as the main threat and realized the truth. “They’re a wildcard. I suspect they’ll hang back if everything goes to plan, but jump in if they catch wind that we’re messing things up. Not much we can do about them in the meantime.”

“How about Atlas?” Sun asked, trying to act like speaking wasn’t painful.

Blake pursed her lips, then shook her head. “You’re right, they’re a problem, but I’m not sure there’s anything we can do there, either. Aqua?”

“No, my contacts stopped picking up a few days ago, I’ve got nothing.”

“Hark?”

“I mean, they’re in Argus, but beyond that, not much I can say. I definitely don’t know a way to make them stand down.”

“Right.” Blake nodded, unsurprised. “As I thought, Atlas is a problem but not one we can deal with.”

“How about the people of Mistral?” Everyone looked at Ivy. She wasn’t usually one to jump in on brainstorming sessions. When everyone was silent for a while she clarified her question. “They might vote against Oak.”

Blake smiled sadly. “I hope you’re right, but we can’t count on it.”

“We could hack the election…” Yatsu began, trailing off as he completed his thought.

“Yeah, but that’s another one of those ‘immoral at best disastrous at worst’ kind of things,” Blake replied.

“I agree, just offering options,” the big man said, looking profoundly relieved.

“And I appreciate it, but we won’t be hacking elections.” Blake turned and looked at her list, the marker tapping against her arm now. “Ok, I think that’s a good start on that problem. We’ll flesh out the solutions in a minute, but first,” She reached up and added **WHITE FANG** under the Coco’s name. “Pretty sure it’s just them we have to worry about. Thoughts.” No one spoke up. “Ok, I’m not going to pretend to have the answers, but if it helps to have me collect problems and solutions as they come up, I will happily do that.”

“We’re at your disposal,” Aqua said. “What do you need?”

Blake looked around, forcing down her first instinct, the one that said she had no idea. Once it was quiet, she also realized it was wrong.“Hark.” She turned to the information gather. “I need to know where Oak will be for every minute of the next twenty-four hours. What he’ll be doing, who he’ll be with, everything you can get me. Same with Lou Beringer.”

“Beringer?”

Blake nodded, turning and writing his name between the two columns, connecting it to his two pet council members as well as the White Fang, though with far less certainty in the latter case.

“He owns them,” she explained.

“He owns Oak too,” Hark pointed out.

“No,” Blake said. “He owned Oak. Oak’s daughter is no longer in play, but he’s still committed. I doubt there’s anything Beringer has on him now. We might even be able to use that to drive a wedge between them.” She added a note to the effect. “Any other questions?”

“Nope, I’ll get digging.”

“Good. Ivy, get me polling data on this vote, as fine-grained as possible. We may as well know which way the people are leaning, could help us figure out how to best counter Oak. I know this isn’t your usual gig but-“

“Happy to try something new,” Ivy chimed in. “There are so many patterns in that kind of data!”

Blake smiled and shook her head at the eager reply. “Yatsu, I need ways into every location Hark says our main targets will be visiting. While you’re waiting for him to get rolling, see if you can get us ears on as many factions as possible. Beringer’s people, the White Fang, the Atlas military. I want to know what’s happening.”

“On it!”

“Sun.” She turned, almost forgetting his wound, the memory of it hurting worse as she saw his eager grin.

“What can I do?” he asked.

Blake winced. “For now, get some rest. I need you functional as soon as possible.”

“I’m fine!” Sun protested, moaning as he tried to hop to his feet and was forced to sit back down. “Ok, I see your point,” he said through gritted teeth.

“Mina-“

“If you’re not sending me after Coco, I’m not interested,” the pilot cut in.

Blake smiled. “Well, good thing I’m sending you after Coco, huh?”

“You are?”

“We don’t know where she’ll be, but the White Fang has her,” Blake explained. “And they won’t stay in the building we trashed.”

“Right…?” Mina asked, indicating she should get to the point.

“So they’ll likely take her back to the nearest safe place.”

Carmina nodded. “The camp.”

“Exactly. Take Jay, go prep a ship. We may have to get in and out fast and loud, so make sure it can clear an LZ.” When Jay looked too excited she added, “Preferably without leaving everyone in the area a bloody stain on the grass.” He deflated at that but grudgingly nodded.

“Yang,” she said, her voice instinctively softening. “Can you get your arm operational before tomorrow?”

“With an extra set of hands,” she said, looking over at Aqua. “Sure.”

The sapper nodded. “I’m game.”

“Good.” Blake nodded to herself, slowly feeling the pieces come together. “Once you two are done, prepare in any way you can. I’m not sure what’s coming tomorrow, but we need to be ready for anything.”

“What are you going to do?” Aqua asked.

“I,” Blake declared, rolling her shoulders. “Am going to do some research.”

\--

“Hold the light a little higher.” Yang squinted into the coiling wires exposed by her partially disassembled arm. Aqua quickly complied, looking over her shoulder with no small measure of awe.

“Perfect. I’m going to unscrew this panel, then I’ll need you to go in with the pliers and remove it, gently.”

Aqua grinned. “I’ve diffused bombs. I can do gentle”

“I hope so, because this is the last processing unit, and if it gets damaged we’re shit out of luck.”

“Ok, so no pressure then?”

“Yeah, no pressure.”

Yang finished carefully removing the screws and moved aside, setting down her driver and taking the light so Aqua could pull out the panel with the small chip she was seeking. Its brethren were already on the table, and both were in rough shape. The primary had been damaged by the safety override. It seemed that Pyrrha had been overly cautious in the design of that, and the surge of power that cut the connection had all but fried the poor little device. The secondary had the misfortune of being placed under where the flare had been pressed, meaning very little of it remained beyond a congealed puddle of silicon. Given the glitchy movements of the unit, Yang was more than a little worried that the tertiary was damaged as well, but cursory inspection showed that while many of the control wires that linked to it had been damaged, its enclosure looked untouched. With any luck it was fine, and all she would have to do is relocate it to the primary socket and reboot it.

With a slight click, the panel came free, and Aqua’s eyes went wide as she maneuvered it out, unharmed. “Sorry.”

“No harm no foul,” Yang remarked. “Set it down and let me have a look.”

It looked fine, pristine even, next to its siblings. That didn't mean it was functional, and without a full lab, it was impossible to test it outside the arm itself. So, without belaboring her investigation, Yang picked it up and went about slotting it into the cuff.

“This is pretty fucking cool,” Aqua murmured, her eyes tracing along the contours of the arm.

“Heh, yeah. Quite a piece of hardware.”

“No… I mean yeah, it is,” Yang stayed her hand and looked over as the sapper considered her words. “It’s just, this is an amazing piece of tech, not just a weapon, and you designed it.”

“Yeah…?”

Aqua shrugged. “I don’t know…everything I’ve ever built has exploded in one way or another, but this? This is some next-level shit.”

Yang smiled, color rising in her cheeks, and went back to work. “Thanks,” she said, clearing her throat.

“You know, maybe rather than you becoming a sapper, I should think about doing what you do.” Aqua looked around, suddenly bashful. “I mean, I’m not smart enough to make something like this…but well, I should probably retire from the explosive thing someday and…” She looked down. “You know what? It’s stupid, ignore me-“

“No,” Yang jumped in. “You should definitely do it. You have the background, and I’ve never met anyone who can improvise with all kinds of devices on the fly like you. I think it’s a great idea.”

Aqua rubbed the back of her neck. “Heh, thanks. I don’t know, I’m just thinking out loud. Let’s finish this before I start planning my future, eh?”

“Sounds good.” Yang smiled, seeing past the wires and plating in front of her into the hours and hours of work and thought that she had put into it. She remembered, just for a moment, to be proud of what she’d done, and it was cool to feel like she impressed someone like Aqua.

A few minutes later, the processor was in place, and she pulled out her scroll to hook it up. “Moment of truth.”

“I believe in us,” Aqua declared.

“Me too. Let’s do it.” The arm gently hummed to life, and the readout on Yang's scroll showed it in far better shape than she’d expected. “Check this out.”

Aqua leaned over. “You’ll have to explain what I’m looking at here.”

Yang did, happily showing her the neural links reading up versus those reading down, the graphs showing that servo motor output was well over 95%, as well as various system readouts.

“So we’re all good then?”

“Not quite,” Yang said, biting her lip. “I can live with the damaged nerves. The sense of touch will be a little numb but still useable, but the passive temperature control is completely shot. That’s…not great.”

“Makes sense though. Can you fix it?”

“Tonight? No. I guess I’ll just try to keep it away from extreme temperatures.”

“Probably smart. Anything else?”

“Power cell is nearly dead. That’s fine, I have replacements. Less fine: the AI training data is lost. I have a backup on my scroll, but it’s old.” Yang gritted her teeth.

“What does that mean?”

“That means I’m about to have a bad thirty seconds or so.”

Aqua looked at her, grimacing when she saw the distant look in Yang’s eyes. “How bad?”

“Bad.”

“Any way we can make it less bad?”

“No.” Yang shook herself. “No use worrying about something I can’t change. Come on, help me get this reassembled.”

\--

Two hours. Two hours and Blake hadn’t found a single arrest record of Beringer or anyone close to him within the last five years. She hadn’t started out looking specifically for arrests, but after finding a few references to older charges, she ran a search. Up until five years ago, it was what she would expect. Then, overnight, all charges had stopped. Not tapered off: stopped. Dropped off a cliff. He hadn’t stopped his illegal dealings, so what had happened?

“Shit,” she muttered. She sprang to her feet. “Yatsu!”

The big man turned, rubbing his bloodshot eyes. “Yeah?”

“Can you get me a roster of all of the detectives in Mantle PD, prioritize men who have gotten promotions or commendations recently.”

“I…sure, yeah.” He turned back to his computer and clacked away. “You need pictures?”

“Please.”

“Give me a minute.”

Blake paced back and forth, growing more certain by the minute that she knew what he was going to find, but equally worried by the fact that if she was wrong, she would be back at square one.

“Here,” he announced, waving her over. “Who are we looking for?”

“I’ll know him when I see him.”

Yatsu scrolled through the grid of headshots, watching Blake for any hint of recognition.

“No…no…no…” Blake’s eyes flicked from face to face, sweat forming on her brow as she ran out of faces. “No…wait!” she cried. “Go back!” A smile spread across her face. In her excitement, she tried to wrap an arm around Yatsu’s shoulder for a side hug, settling for making it just over halfway across his expansive back. “I knew it!” she cried, straightening up. “Can you pull up his service record? I need to know what department he works in.”

“On it!”

She ran back to her computer, too impatient to wait for him to be done. Yang caught her eye and flashed her a thumbs up, and Blake returned it, hope filling her chest. She threw herself back into her chair to run her own search.

A moment later, Yatsu called across the room, “It’s Officer Mako, department of-“

“Organized crime,” Blake interrupted.

“You got it. Anything else?”

“Nope! Thank you, Yatsu.”

The big man glowed and turned back to his work, and Blake happily began running through the very public records of Officer Mako’s many successes. It seemed he’d had major busts on nearly every major criminal organization in the city over the past five years. All of them except for one.

But that wasn’t enough; she needed more. “Hark? Did you ever go through the rest of Beringer’s business dealings?”

He shook his head. “No. Coco wanted me to focus on Oak, and things went to shit almost immediately after we deciphered the journals. Why?”

Blake grimaced but shook him off. “Don’t worry about it. You keep working. Ivy?” she called out, chuckling when she saw the girl lying on the floor with her feet up on a chair, her laptop perched on her stomach. “You got a sec?”

“I have several.” The woman replied. “No new polling numbers come out until tomorrow morning.”

“Do you still have those journals? Or at least a copy of them?”

“Yes, I made a decoded copy. Would you like me to send it to you?”

“Please and thank you.”

She checked the time. Late. Too late? She hoped not. It would be a shame to come up short now, right as it was all starting to come together.


	34. Old Friends

“Alright, team, listen up.” All eyes snapped up from various places around the dingy room to settle on Blake. All but Sun, who had been sleeping soundly in the corner for some time now. _Good_ , Blake thought, _he needs it_. “I have a plan.”

“Really?” Aqua asked, standing up and stretching.

Blake hesitated. “Well…I have the beginnings of a plan.”

Aqua chuckled. “Stop apologizing and get on with it.”

“Ok.” Blake shook her head, willing the doubts in her mind to fall away. “We deal with Beringer first; he should provide the biggest payoff. He might even be able to force the White Fang to hand over Coco, though I wouldn’t hold my breath on that one.” The more she had thought about that aspect of her plan, the less she’d liked her odds. She shook the thought aside and forced herself to continue. “I am certain, however, that he can tell the council members to fall in line, and if we know that they’ll follow Aspis, then we have one less thing to worry about. After that, we just need to give them a reason to oust Oak.”

“And how are we going to do that?” Aqua pressed.

“One thing at a time.”

The lanky woman looked around. “Tell me you at least have a plan to turn Beringer?”

“I do, as a matter of fact,” Blake stated, a proud smile on her lips. “Hark? Any idea where he is?”

“It’s one o’clock in the morning…”

“I didn’t ask for the time.”

Hark shook his head as he consulted his notes. “He’s out on a date, no planned itinerary or expected time when he’ll be back-“

“No need, I know where he’ll be.”

Blake typed a few quick commands on her laptop, copying the files she’d found onto a thumb drive along with those that Yatsu had secured, then strode toward the back corner to find some clothes.

“And the rest of us are just supposed to sit here?” Aqua asked, intercepting her.

Blake shook her head. “No. The rest of you are supposed to keep preparing for tomorrow. We need to catch Oak alone and storm the White Fang training camp. Or isn’t that enough?”

Aqua was not cowed by the snap in her tone. “That’s not what I meant. You can’t just go running off alone.”

“Who’s going to come with me?”

Aqua looked ready to respond, but she was interrupted by Yang. “I will.”

Blake bit back her retort, it was too soon to be going back on her word. “Are you sure?”

Yang stood, looking her in the eye with more than a touch of the fire that Blake remembered. It was the look she used to give an opponent as she strode to the ring. It was the look of the Dragon. Yang held her gaze as she scooped up her scarred arm and slid it home. No sound escaped her lips as she did, but Blake saw the muscles in her neck and jaw go suddenly tense. Before she could protest and tell her to stop, it passed, and Yang brought her arm up in a smooth arc, turning her hand back and forth and wiggling her fingers beside her face before clenching them into a fist. “I’m sure,” she said, her tone brooking no argument. It was an impressive display, no doubt about that, but Blake still wanted to tell her to stay back, to stay safe. She wanted Yang as far from danger as possible, wanted to tell her that she could do it alone. But she was tired of being alone.

And she had made a promise.

So instead of trying to convince her to stay behind, Blake fought all of the instincts learned over years of failure and accepted the offer of help. “Ok,” she said, forcing her voice to be steady. “We leave in five.”

Every syllable was laced with guilt. Guilt that she was leading the woman she loved toward pain and torment and worse all over again. Guilt that if Yang ended up hurt or dead, Blake would have no one to blame but herself. But the look she received in return was more than a ray of sunshine on a cloudy day; it was a second sun, a wave of heat and shining light that warmed her from the soles of her feet to the tips of her ears. They were headed into danger, it was true, but they were headed in together.

Maybe that would be enough.

\--

Yang did her best to act natural, but she was sure she was failing miserably. For one thing, they were headed for a rendevous with a gangster with no backup. That was plenty to make her nervous, but it was a distant second to the real cause of her awkward gait: that dress.

Not that she was wearing a dress. Fortunately, she had been allowed to opt for a jacket and tight jeans, both oddly well fitted and far trendier than she would normally choose. When she had asked about the origin of the outfit, everyone had just shrugged and laughed and chalked it up to Coco’s wizardry. No, her clothes were fine.

It was Blake.

She was wearing a dress so tight that calling it a second skin made it sound modest. And it was working for her.

It was also working for Yang.

But she had to stay focused. The dress was meant to impact their mark, not her. Too bad it wasn’t a focused attack. More of an area of effect type deal. In fact, Yang was noticing several areas… _Focus!_ she snapped at herself. Looking over, she saw Blake roll her eyes. Of course she knew what Yang was thinking. Of course. Yang tried to be mad, failed, tried again, and then finally got herself composed just in time for Blake to nudge her in the ribs.

“This is it,” she murmured.

The pair strolled into the little bar, just another couple out late, wandering from place to place as one or both of them worked up the nerve to invite the other home. “Just once,” Yang whispered without looking over. “I’d like to go on a real date with you. One that doesn’t involve crime or danger.”

“Soon,” Blake replied, her lips hardly moving around the smile she’d pasted on her face. She patted the arm she was holding fondly, then spoke to the nearest waitress. “Is Mr. Beringer here?”

“No, Miss, no sign of him,” the waitress said, looking her up and down. “Though he’s usually in late.”

“Mind if wait for him at his usual table?”

“Oh, I don’t know-“

“That’s ok,” Blake said, waving her off and making her way toward the back. “I know the way.”

“No, I don’t think-“

“It’s fine, really.” Blake didn’t break stride, waving her dismissal over the shoulder. “He’ll be thrilled to see me.” The waitress watched helplessly, turning to Yang. Unfortunately, there was no help to be found there, as she’d already slipped past, following eagerly after the swaggering figure.

By the time Yang reached the table, Blake had already claimed the seat in the corner, leaning back in the chair like she owned the place. “You look comfortable,” she remarked.

Blake smiled languidly up at her. “It would be better if you were sitting next to me, but I may need you to be a little more…strategically placed.”

Yang jerked her head back toward the bar. “I’ll be on the near corner, to make sure he doesn’t try anything.”

“Perfect.”

Yang sidled up to the bar and ordered a whiskey neat, looking around like a woman on the prowl. _Which_ , she mused, _I am. In a sense._ It was an effort to stay still, to feign boredom and ease while she waited on her prey. Fortunately, she didn’t have to wait long. Before she was halfway through her drink, the door swung open, and a faunus roughly as wide as he was tall strode in with a scantily clad woman under his arm. Between the description Blake had given her and the way he acted like he owned everything and everyone in sight, it wasn’t hard to peg him as Beringer. She watched him walk past and hesitate as he noticed someone occupying his table.

“Uh, ‘scuse me, doll,” he chuckled, a slight edge in his voice. “I think you might be lost. This is my spot.”

“Don’t you mean our spot, Louie baby?” Blake pouted.

His date shot him a dirty look. “Lou, what the hell is she talking about?”

“Nothing darling, nothing. She’s confused.”

“I’m confused?” Blake’s hand flew to her chest, her eyes batting wildly. Yang stifled a snorting laugh. “Me? I think you’re confused. Acting like you don’t even recognize me. After you told me you loved me.”

His date swung on him in a fury. “Lou, you better explain this right now-“

“She’s lying-“

“She seems to know you-“

“I’ve never seen her before.”

“I’m pregnant.” Blake’s words fell like an ax, silencing the conversation. Yang could almost see the rift it had driven between Lou and his paramour.

“You-“ she raged.

“Now hold on.”

“You fucking…fuck!” The woman shrieked. Swatting at him with her clutch. “You two-timing prick.”

“That’s not fair-“

“I can’t believe you. I’m going home!”

She stormed out, and Lou made to follow. At a signal from Blake, Yang stood and intercepted him. He glared up at her. “Girlie, you best get out of my way if you know what’s good for you.”

Yang leaned down, enjoying her height advantage over the stocky man. “I don’t like being called girlie.”

“I don’t give a rat’s ass what you like, move it!” He reached up to push her aside, but she caught his hand in hers and gave him a little squeeze.

“Fucking hell!” he cried as his bones flexed under her mechanical fingers.

Yang shook her head. “Look, we can stand here, and I can grind your hand into dust, or you can go back and talk to the lady. Your choice.”

“You bitch,” he grunted, his face red and his teeth gnashing. “When my boys hear about this-“

“Oh, thanks for reminding me,” Yang quipped, snapping with her free hand as though she’d forgotten something trivial. “I’m going to need your scroll.”

“What, no…ah!”

“What was that? I can’t hear you over the permanent damage I’m doing to what I’m assuming is the hand you were going to use to masturbate with after going home alone.”

“Fuck…fine.” As he struggled to maintain his composure, Beringer fished his scroll out of his jacket pocket and handed it over.

“Great,” Yang chirped, giving him a winning smile as she let go of his hand. When he didn’t immediately turn she shooed him playfully. His glare was pure murder, but in the end, he whipped around and stalked over to the table where Blake waited, unceremoniously flopping down in the seat opposite her. Yang sauntered over, leaning against a wooden post nearby, just behind Beringer. Her position did not go unnoticed, and as he tried to focus on Blake, he continually shot her furtive glances.

After looking at Blake for a moment, he shook his head, completely lost. “Who are you? What do you want?”

Blake held a splayed hand to her chest, every bit the jilted lover. “You mean you really don’t recognize me.” Beringer narrowed his eyes but shook his head. “I suppose that makes sense. The last time you saw me, I was a blonde.”

“Doll, I date lots of blondes. You’ll have to narrow it down.”

Blake rolled her eyes. “Fiona.”

Beringer looked at her with renewed interest, his eyes narrowing then flashing open. “You!” he lunged up out of his chair, only to be brought crashing back down by a crushing grip on his shoulder.

“Easy there, loverboy.” Yang gave him a few solid pats. “Let’s keep this civil, shall we?”

He ground his teeth as he glared at her, then looked back at Blake. “So, you’re back. You planning on poisoning me again?”

Yang thought she saw Blake wince; she would have to get that story out of her at some point. Her face fell back into a confident smirk. “No, nothing quite so blunt this time. I’m just here to chat.”

“Yeah, what about? I don’t have all night.”

“We are similarly time-constrained, so I’ll get to the point: I need a favor.”

Her words hung in the air between them for a few heartbeats. Beringer looked up at Yang, then back at Blake, as though trying to decide if they were pulling his leg. Then he burst out into a great, booming laugh. He laughed so hard he had to wipe his eyes, then he looked at them both and laughed all the harder. When he finally caught his breath he sighed and shook his head.

“You can’t be serious. You poison me-“

“It wasn’t actually poison,” Blake interjected, rolling her eyes.

“Three days in the hospital and a week eating nothing but broth says otherwise.”

Blake considered this. “Fair.”

Beringer glowered at her. “Regardless, you put me through hell, ruin my night, and demand a favor? You got some serious stones, girl.”

“What I have,” Blake declared, her eyes dancing in the low light of the bar. “Is evidence of your dealings with the cops.”

Beringer sat back, looking around nervously for a moment before leaning in and dropping his voice. “The fuck did you just say?”

“I know about Officer Mako and his little task force.”

“What about him?” Beringer’s words didn’t do much to sell his innocence, however. They certainly didn’t drown out the confession sent by his nervously flitting eyes and sudden sheen of sweat.

“I know why he hasn’t touched you, and I know where he’s been getting his information.”

“You don’t know shit!” he spat.

“Easy there, Lou.” Yang drawled, patting him on the cheek and making him jump. “Civil, remember?”

Lou shot her a look and then swung his glare back on Blake. “You don’t know shit because I didn’t say shit.” Then a smile crept onto his face, as though he had just figured out some great mystery. “You’ve got no proof anyway.”

“Oh, Lou. I’m hurt,” Blake deadpanned. “You think I don’t pay attention to the company you keep?”

Beringer swallowed hard, but his voice still rasped on the way out. “The Liberalia.”

“Bingo.” Blake gave him a wink. “I spent months slinging drinks for you. I’ve seen everyone you’ve been in there with, and Farrow keeps records and security footage in case he ever needs a favor. He stores them on a secure server. Well, he probably thinks it’s secure, anyway.” She smiled at his growing frown. “If those were to fall into the wrong hands? I feel like the mob bosses might not take kindly to one of their own snitching on them. What do you think?”

Yang leaned down to whisper in his ear. “I’m guessing they would be pretty unhappy.” She gave her words a moment to sink in, then slammed her fist on the table, just hard enough to rattle it and make Beringer nearly jump out of his chair. Yang stood back up, laughing.

Beringer sat, muttering to himself and looking around, like a rat in a trap seriously considering gnawing off its own leg to escape. Some slim hope flashed across his eyes, and he snapped his head up. “It doesn’t matter.” He shrugged and smiled. “They can’t come after me if they’re all in jail. I’ve got the cops on my side, remember? Not just some crooked cops either, a real hero, that Officer Mako.” He laughed, still nervous but trying to project strength. “I’m going legit. Going to be a businessman, no more of this underground, smalltime stuff. Doesn’t matter what those nobodies think of me.”

“Well,” Blake said, smiling warmly at him. “It wouldn’t…”

“What? What now?”

“You’ve been double-dealing with Atlas.”

He froze under Blake’s widening smile, then his shoulders slumped with the sound of the trap slamming shut. “How?”

“We have your books,” Blake explained.

“They’re-“

“Encoded?” she supplied. When he nodded, she shrugged. “We decoded them. You got into debt, lots of debt. It’s expensive going legit. Debt to the Schnees though? That’s nasty business.”

“Stop, don’t-“

“Money wasn’t enough, you paid for it with favors, and intel from your pet Councilmen that Mistral wouldn’t want to find its way into the hands of a Kingdom it’s about to go to war with.”

“I had no choice-“

Blake shook her head. “There’s always a choice, Lou. Your excuses won’t keep you out of prison. I didn’t even get to the part where you were told to have Sienna Khan killed.”

“How did you know about that? I never recorded that anywhere!”

Blake smirked. “It was a guess, looks like I was right.” Beringer slumped further, too beaten to even be angry. “I’m guessing Jacques wanted you to put someone else in charge, someone he could control. Either that or leave a power vacuum to distract the White Fang, not put Adam _fucking_ Taurus in power.”

“The fuck was I supposed to do?!” Beringer snapped, confirming what Yang had known to be another guess. “He had the kid, I needed her to get to Oak, so I had to give him what he wanted. I figured I’d deal with Schnee later.”

Blake shook her head wearily. “So on top of making enemies with every mob boss in Mistral, the military, and the White Fang, you’ve also made an enemy of Jacques Schnee. You don’t have many friends left, Lou. I might be just about the last one, assuming you play nice.”

“What do you want?”

“That’s my boy.” Blake smiled, sitting forward and clasping her hands. All business. “I need you to get in touch with Fig and Leaf. Tell them that they are to side with Aspis in a vote of no confidence against Oak. Unless, of course, you can still pull his strings.”

“That bastard?” Beringer laughed, a sad, hollow sound. “I don’t know if I ever could. You may have noticed that some crazy broad delivered his daughter to a hospital today.”

“I had noticed that, yes.”

“Yeah, well, you may have also noticed that he didn’t suddenly stop pushing for war. He’s too committed, and I’ve got squat on him now.”

Blake shrugged. “Fine, then the vote it is.”

“How will that help?” Beringer threw up his hands. “Even if they call for the vote, all of Mistral has been sold on Oak’s plan. He’ll call it a coup, and before you know it, all three will be kicked to the curb. We’ll be looking at King Oak. Is that what you want?”

“You let me worry about all that. Tell those two sellouts not to do anything until Aspis makes his move. They are only to back him, nothing more, nothing less. Do I make myself clear?”

Beringer looked away. “And if they don’t?”

“It’s not like I won’t know,” Blake scoffed. “And then I’ll simply send everything I’ve learned to the interested parties. Oh, in case you think I’m bluffing, here’s a copy.” She threw the drive across the table, where it skittered to a stop in front of him. He looked at it like it might rear up and bite him but eventually palmed it. “And if I’m in a particularly bad mood, I may not wait for the others to get to you. I may come myself.” Yang slammed her knuckles down on the table again, inches from Beringer’s meaty hand. He lurched back and she leered down at him, then offered her hand to Blake and helped her up. “Oh, one more thing.”

“Gods, what now?”

“A colleague of mine seems to have fallen into the White Fang’s hands. I want her back. Unharmed.”

“You’ve got be kidding me,” Beringer moaned. “That Taurus kid is worse than Oak; I’d have an easier time ordering the fucking moon back into one piece. You don’t understand-“

“I understand Adam Taurus better than anyone,” Blake interrupted, the shadow of a memory flickering behind her eyes. “And I don’t want to hear your excuses.”

Beringer shook his head, staring miserably at the table in front of him. “I’ll tell him,” he mumbled.

Blake stepped around the table to join Yang. “Don’t disappoint me, Lou,” she purred, patting him gently on his slumped shoulder before allowing Yang to guide her out of the bar.

“Hey!” He called after them. “How am I supposed to contact them without my scroll?”

“You’re a resourceful man; figure it out.” Blake flashed him one last, predatory smile before the door swung shut behind her.

They strode out into the night air, fresh and crisp after the cleansing rainfall, and walked for a time in silence. They reached the outer stairs, and Yang ventured a look at Blake and saw that her cool mask had evaporated. Her eyes were wide and searching and her jaw looked as tight as the hand gripping Yang’s sleeve. “That went well,” Yang said.

Blake snorted. Relaxing a hair. “It was oddly satisfying.” She looked up at the stars peeking through cracks in the clouds overhead. “Too bad that was the easy part.”

Yang nodded. “Still, one down. That’s something.”

Blake smiled up at her, nearly missing a step and leaning on Yang as she regained her balance. “I’m glad you’re with me.”

“Yeah, you would have definitely eaten it just now without me.”

She rolled her golden eyes. “You know what I mean.”

“I do,” Yang said, her grin fading from her face. “Thanks for letting me come. There’s nowhere I’d rather be.”

Blake smiled and nuzzled into her shoulder, and for a moment, Yang allowed herself to pretend they were just two people out on the town. No mission, no risks, no life and death decisions. No old wounds recently healed. Just a young couple enjoying the night and each other.

Then Blake turned them toward their hideout, and the illusion faded. “Let’s get back,” she said, no small measure of disappointment in her voice. “Lots to do.”

“Sounds good, boss,” Yang said, a smile tugging at her lips.

Blake rolled her eyes and led them off into the night.


	35. Springing the Trap

“How’d it go?” Aqua asked from her pile of gadgets.

Blake slid her arm out of Yang’s and nodded. She looked around at the team. Yatsu and Hark were sitting at their table by the wall, typing away furiously. Ivy was sprawled nearby, reading something on her scroll while her free hand fiddled with her skirt. Sun still slept soundly on his cot, and Jay must have come back at some point, as he lay on one nearby. “Beringer caved, Leaf and Fig will vote with Aspis tomorrow.”

She nodded appreciatively. “Not bad.”

“We still need to give Aspis grounds to call the vote,” Hark pointed out.

Blake strode across the room, eager to change into something more practical now that she was done with her act. “I know, we will. Do you have Oak’s schedule?”

“Every minute.”

“Good. Now I need you to find everything you can on him. Everything. Everyone he’s ever spoken to, everyone he’s ever done business with, anyone who’s ever held a door for him. Got it? Beringer may not have leverage on him anymore, but someone must. Find it.”

“What about Coco?”

Blake snapped her head toward the far corner and saw Carmina pacing, her entire body bouncing with restless energy. “I told Beringer to order her release…”

“But?” Carmina demanded, hearing her hesitation.

Blake grimaced. “But, I’m not sure he can make Adam comply.”

Mina crossed her arms and set her jaw, glaring back at her. “So, what? We’re just going to sit around and wait? Should we try saying ‘please’?”

“No, Mina, we’re not. I asked because it was worth a shot, but the original plan stands, we’re going to go get her.”

“When?”

“In the morning.”

“Why not now?”

Blake shook her head and started pawing through her discarded clothes, stepping into a pair of pants and sliding them on under her dress. “Can you see in the dark?” she asked. Carmina started to respond, but angry as she was, a fact was a fact. She favored Blake with a defiant scowl, which was summarily ignored. “Thought not. I can, but so can probably three quarters or more of the people in that camp. Going now would accomplish less than nothing.”

Carmina’s lips pulled back into a snarl. Blake stared back until the pilot growled an incomprehensible curse and looked away. “Fine,” she spat. “But there better be a plan.”

“There will be.” Blake wasn’t about to lie and say she had one, but she wasn’t going to give ground either. With little energy left for modesty, she pulled her dress over her head without bothering to step out of sight and threw a shirt on.

“Who can make the most use out of Beringer’s scroll?” Blake called out.

Hark laughed. “You stole his scroll?” Blake shrugged, a sly smile tugging up the corner of her lips. “Yang relieved him of it. You want it?”

“It’s probably locked.”

“Ivy?”

The codebreaker sat up eagerly. “Need something cracked?”

“Beringer’s scroll,” Yang answered, pulling it out of her jacket and handing it over.

Ivy deflated, just a little. “Not much of a challenge.”

Blake chuckled and shook her head. “Not for you maybe, but for us, it would be. And it’s really important.”

“Well, I guess if it’s important…”

“Thanks, we really-“

“Done.”

“W-what?”

“I said I’m done,” she announced matter-of-factly. “Here you go, Hark.”

Blake watched, wide-eyed, as she passed the scroll over. Hark laughed and started flipping through the device. “That was fast, even for you,” he said.

Ivy shrugged. “I’ve spent several days decoding his notebooks, I know his patterns. The code is just his mother’s birthday.” With that, she flopped back down and went back to her own scroll.

Blake continued staring in disbelief. “Ivy, I’m really glad you’re on our team.”

“I know.”

A thought occurred to Blake, and she approached the wall where their skeleton of a plan was forming. Hunting around, she found the marker on the floor nearby and used it to draw a fat line through Beringer’s name. “One problem down,” she whispered to herself, staring at Oak’s name. “But so many more to go.”

“Yeah,” Yang agreed as she sidled up beside her. “But a win’s a win.”

Blake smiled at her, but it dropped away as she looked back at the board. “I don’t know if I can do this, Yang.” She kept her voice low, needing to confide in someone but unwilling to sow doubt in the rest of the group. “What if I fuck it up?”

“You won’t, and try not to forget that you aren’t alone. This isn’t all on you; we’re all here for you.” With a subtle step, she slid closer; close enough that Blake could feel that everpresent warmth along the right side of her body. “I’m here for you.”

Blake closed the remaining distance, leaning into the familiar contours and resting her head on Yang’s strong shoulder. “Thank you. I really don’t know how I would do this without you.”

“Good thing you don’t have to.”

“Yeah.” Blake turned in slightly, letting herself be enveloped by the scent she’d dreamed of for so long, wild and sweet and full of sunlight and leather. “Good thing…”

A jolt ran through her body and she jerked back, nearly stumbling but for the strong arms catching her. Looking up, she saw Yang chuckling. “Easy there, I think you fell asleep on me. Standing up.”

Blake rubbed her eyes. “No I didn’t. I just got really cozy.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I’m fine.”

“Sure. Maybe you should lay down for a bit.”

“No, I can’t-“

“Yes, you can.” Yang guided her deftly toward the cots. “You need to.”

“Wait.” Blake stopped, rubbing her eyes and looking around. “Aqua, how are preparations on your end?”

She looked up from her table of neatly arrayed gadgets. “I think I’m basically ready.”

“Good, bedtime. You need to rest. Ivy?” The codebreaker shrugged. “You too, then. Carmina?”

“You can’t expect me to be able to sleep right now.”

Blake turned toward the pilot with a sigh. “No, but you should lie down. Coco’s life may rely on you being fresh tomorrow; you’re no good to any of us half asleep.” The pilot glared back at her for a few moments, then pushed off the wall she’d been leaning against with a sound of disgust and stomped over toward the cots. Blake watched her go, feeling for her but knowing there was nothing she could do at the moment. Finally, she turned to the two men working away, tirelessly, at their computers. “Hark, Yatsu?”

“We’ll keep working,” the big hacker replied, smiling over his shoulder.

“Thank you, and I’m sorry.”

He shrugged his big shoulders. “We’re used to burning the midnight oil. When do you want us to wake you.”

Blake looked at her scroll, saw the time, and groaned. “Sunrise.”

“Not much of a lie-down. More of a nap,” Yatsu commented.

“Yeah well, it’ll have to do.” Blake put her scroll away and allowed herself to be led over toward the cots, not complaining when Yang pulled two closer together, though she did note Mina’s grimace at the act. She felt bad, but not bad enough to push them back apart. She collapsed into the unforgiving surface and watched Yang sink down into hers. A moment later, a hand was stroking her cheek. With so many thoughts and worries racing through her head, Blake wasn’t sure she’d get much sleep, but even if she spent a few hours lying still while those warm fingers traced formless designs on her jaw, she would consider it time well spent. It was so soothing, light yet solid, somehow pressing her entire body deep into the stiff cot. The room around her grew fuzzy and dark until her vision was narrowed down to the golden figure in front of her.

She slept.

\--

“Blake, wake up.”

The voice pushed through the darkness of Blake’s dreamless sleep, muffled and distorted as it fought to stir something. Recognition, perhaps, or some sense of obligation. It sought a toehold from which to dig in and force her to rouse herself, to care. But why? About what?

“Fuck!” Blake sat bold upright, everything rushing back to her at once. Yatsu pulled back just as suddenly, giving her space to regain her bearings. She blinked up at his looming form. “What? Is it time? I’m up.”

“Sorry, Blake, it’s a little earlier than I wanted to wake you…”

Even to her sluggish mind, his hesitation set off alarms in her mind. “What is it?”

“It’s Coco’s radio. It’s online.”

That brought Blake fully awake. “What?!” She sprung from her cot, following the big hacker back to his workstation. “Has she said anything?”

“Well…no. _She_ hasn’t.”

Blake cocked her head, then her heart sank. “What do you mean _she_ hasn’t?”

Yatsu frowned. “The man on the radio claims to be Adam Taurus. He uh…he wants to speak to you.”

Blake nodded, holding out her hand when they reached the table. “You were right to wake me. Give me an earpiece.”

He picked one up, the device dwarfed by his huge hand, and dropped it into Blake’s waiting palm. She looked down at the small device, holding it away from her like it was liable to explode at any moment, then sighed and put it in her ear. Mustering as much calm as she could, she willed her voice to sound steady and strong. “Adam.”

“Hello, my love.”

Even an electronic recreation of his voice was enough to send a chill down her spine, as much from disgust as fear. How she had ever loved that voice was suddenly beyond her. “What do you want?”

“It’s not about what I want, it’s about what you want.”

“And what do I want?”

“I hear that you want your little friend back in one piece.”

“Who says she’s my friend?” Blake bluffed.

Adam laughed, but there was no humor in the cold sound. “Oh please, after she went to so much trouble to dress up like you and make sure you got away? Something tells me you two weren’t just passing acquaintances. Maybe she was more than a friend, maybe I’ve got another one of your lovers here. There are so many; I have trouble keeping track.”

Blake refused to rise to his bait. “How do I even know she’s still alive?”

“Well, I’d have her tell you, but she hasn’t proven overly…cooperative.”

“I want proof that she’s alive, or we have nothing to talk about.”

“Would a picture suffice?”

“How would I know it’s recent?”

Adam considered this. “I’ll include a message of your choosing. Would that work?”

“Sure.” Blake smiled. “How about: ‘Adam is Scum’?”

“You’re pushing your luck.”

“I’m waiting.”

Blake smiled as she listened to his growl. A moment later he was muttering to someone on the other end, then there was a brief bit of rustling and some harsh words spoken to someone else. Eventually, Adam addressed her. “I’ve appeased your juvenile sense of justice. Do you have somewhere I can send this?”

Blake looked over at Yatsu, who she was grateful to see had been listening and was now holding up a sheet of paper with an email address on it. She read it off to him and then waited. A few seconds later Yatsu waved for her to come look, and she leaned over his shoulder.

A photo of Coco took up most of the screen. She was on her knees in a shadowy room, with little visible beyond the featureless wall behind her. One of her eyes was bruised and swollen shut, and there was dried blood beneath her nose, staining the gag that was tied over her mouth. One hand was chained behind her, but the other held a white sheet of paper with the requested message written in Adam’s own hand. It was cold comfort, the only kind Blake suspected she’d be getting for a while.

“Happy?” Adam demanded.

“Hardly.” She looked at the photograph again, feeling every wound as though it were her own. “You haven’t exactly been treating her gently.”

“Talk to her about it. If she would cooperate and stop trying to bite my men we might not have to muzzle her.”

Blake chewed her lip. “Can I talk to her?”

“No.”

She sighed, it was worth a shot. “What do you want?”

“Simple, I want you to come get her.”

Blake waited, but he didn’t elaborate. “That’s it?”

“What, you want more than just her?”

“No.” She narrowed her eyes, this was too obvious, even for him. “I mean no exchange, no threats, not promises to come alone?”

“I want to be rid of her, she’s more trouble than she’s worth.” He sneered. “And you can bring as many as you’d like, but I make no guarantee for anyone’s safety. Any blood spilled will be on your hands. It’s that simple.”

“Where and when?”

“I think you know your way to our camp, and as for when?” Adam paused, as though checking his calendar for the ideal time for an ex-lover turned nemesis to reclaim a hostage he’d taken.

“That’s up to you, though I can’t promise she’ll enjoy every minute she has to wait.”

“If you hurt her-“

“Spare me your threats; you don’t scare me. Come get your friend before I get bored, or I’ll put her head on a spike outside our gate. Is that clear enough?”

Blake clenched her teeth, wondering if he could hear them grinding. “Crystal.”

“Good. See you soon, my darling.”

The line went dead.

“Fuck!” Blake tore the earpiece out and threw it on the table, seething.

Yatsu looked up at her, waiting a moment so she could collect herself before speaking. “What should we do?”

Blake snapped her head down to look at him, then slowed her rapid breathing. She couldn’t afford to let her anger cloud her judgment, not when everyone was counting on her. “Wake the others.”

\--

Soon she was looking at a ring of faces, tired but alert. Mina especially looked laser-focused as she relayed Adam’s message. “We have to go get her!”

“I know, Mina,” Blake said, holding up her hands. “I know.”

“It has to be a trap,” Yang pointed out.

“It might not be,” Hark countered. “Maybe Beringer has more control over Adam than he thought.”

Blake turned that over in her mind, weighing it. “No,” she offered when it didn’t pass muster. “Yang’s right, it’s a trap.”

“Who gives a shit if it’s a trap?!” Carmina shouted, shooting to her feet. “That wouldn’t stop Coco from running into it to get any of us. We need to save her, we need to-“

Blake shook her head. “Mina-”

“Don’t you start, we need to-“

“Enough!” Blake’s voice tore through the group, filling the dingy basement and shocking everyone with its force, even Blake herself. Not wanting to waste the silence she’d bought herself she pressed on, “Of course it’s a trap, but I also don’t think Coco is actually at the camp.”

“But last night you said-“ Mina began, only for Blake to cut her off again.

“I know what I said, but that was before Adam called to announce where she was.”

The pilot threw herself back in her chair and crossed her arms. “Why does that change anything?”

“First of all, he’s not asking for anything in trade,” Blake said, ticking off the list on her fingers. “Second, he didn’t specify that I come alone or unarmed. Yatsu has the real kicker, though.”

“He was talking to us over Coco’s radio.” He smiled proudly at the group, looking around and waiting for them to understand the significance of that detail.

Mina shook her head, speaking up for everyone. “So?”

Yatsu sighed, looking up the ceiling. “Do you guys even listen when I explain the tech I give you?”

“Honestly?” Jay quipped. “Not really.”

“Jay,” Blake admonished. “Not now.”

“I’m just saying-“

“Yatsu?” Blake prompted, cutting off an excuse she wasn’t interested in hearing.

“The camp is way outside the range of our radios.”

“Oh shit!” Aqua said, cuffing herself on the forehead. “I knew that.”

Yatsu rolled his eyes and smiled. “Yes, you all should have known that.”

“So where is she?” Carmina asked, sitting forward and gripping the ragged arm of the couch, coiled like a sprinter on the blocks.

“That’s the problem,” Yatsu said, grimacing. “I don’t know exactly. I just know she’s in Mistral, probably on this side of the mountain.”

Carmina threw herself back against the cushion, recrossing her arms. “That doesn’t exactly narrow it down,” she grumbled.

“No,” Blake agreed. “But it does tell us that they definitely aren’t at the camp.”

“Ok,” Hark said, looking around. “So we just ignore it?”

Blake shook her head, a slight smile working on her lips. “No. Adam doesn’t know about the range limit, at least I don’t think he does. That gives us an edge. He wants us going on a wild goose chase, probably to give himself time to work. We need him to think we fell for it.”

Jay raised his hand like a pupil asking for extra credit. “If there’s potential danger involved, I volunteer.”

“Much as I appreciate that, I’m not going to waste you in a meaningless fight.” Blake turned, looking at her intended targets. “Mina, Aqua, Yang: you three are with me and Yatsu. He has an idea, but we need your help if we’re going to make it work.”

Yang looked at the others who were chosen, clearly not following the connection. “Sure, but what do you need us to do?”

Blake grinned. “Something impossible, given our lack of resources and time.”

“You know I’m always down for impossible.”

Aqua extended her hand, and she and Yang went through what Blake thought was an unnecessarily complex handshake. “That goes double for me.”

Blake rolled her eyes and looked at Mina, who shrugged. “Obviously I’m in.”

“Good. Hark, anything new on Oak?” He shook his head. “Keep looking. The rest of you get your gear together. We need to be ready to leave at any moment, and anything left behind is gone forever. Got it?” Everyone nodded but held their seats. Blake looked around at them in disbelief. “What, are you waiting for, a dismissal? Let’s go!”

\--

“Approaching the camp.” Mina’s words were calm and even, ever the professional when she was flying, but Blake could still hear the tension in her voice. She was surprised when the camp came easily into view; it seemed they had removed the camouflage net that had covered their buildings in anticipation of their guests. “Really rolled out the red carpet, didn’t they?” Mina observed.

“Seems so…Shit, is that her?” Blake asked, pointing at a small, lone figure in the middle of the camp.

Mina bit her lip. “Might be. Hold on.” She toggled through the ship’s sensors and brought up a thermal scan of the camp on a display screen. “This…this can’t be right.”

“What is it?”

“There’s no one else in the camp.”

Blake looked at her, then back at the screen. It was almost entirely dark, with a single bright spot in the middle. She shook her head. “No way. Maybe they’re hiding in the buildings; those could hide heat signatures.”

“Maybe, but for no one else to be outside. Anywhere?”

“Yeah, that’s weird.”

“What do we do?”

Blake looked at the screen and shrugged. “What choice do we have? We go through with it. Patch me into the exterior PA and circle lower.”

“You got it.” When the ship was just above the level of the nearest roof, Carmina slowed it to a crawl and pressed a button. “It’s all you.”

Blake looked at the lone figure, wondering if maybe her paranoia had gotten the better of her. “Coco,” she said, her voice booming out from the ship and echoing through the trees. “It’s Blake, we’re here to rescue you. Nod if you can hear me.” The figure’s head jerked up and down. “Ok. To anyone else in the camp: we will not attack, so long as you don’t attack us. If you do, we will respond in kind. This is your only warning.”

“If you had wanted to be able to counterattack, you should have sent the ship Jay and I prepped,” Carmina muttered.

Blake shot her a look, then pressed the button to kill the exterior speakers herself. “Just take us down.”

“What if it’s actually her?” Carmina asked.

“Then we take the easy victory.”

“But-“

“Worry about that in a minute, take us down.”

The ship drifted down and came to a bumpy rest on the grass.

“Sorry,” Mina said reflexively. “These controls are kind of numb-shit!”

They had both been so distracted by the odd scene and the bumpy landing that they almost hadn’t noticed the figure they’d assumed to be Coco suddenly springing to its feet and producing a long rod with a slight bulge at one end. Without a word the figure threw the weapon up on one shoulder and pulled a trigger, launching an object that vaguely registered with some distant part of Blake’s mind that contained obscure and generally useless knowledge. _That's an RPG_ , she thought as the dark object shot forward and blew their ship to rubble.

Back at the hangar, Mina threw her headset down, staring at the blank monitor in front of her. “Still think that was Coco?” Blake deadpanned.

“Ha ha. Funny.” Mina leaned back in her chair, rubbing her face. “I guess we knew she wouldn’t actually be there.”

“We had to check.” Blake reached out, trying to comfort the pilot without condescending to her. “And none of us died, so that’s a win.”

“Think they’ll believe some of us did?”

“I don’t know,” Blake admitted, turning to the rest of their crew. “Aqua, did your additions work?”

“Hard to say for sure.” The sapper bobbed her head back and forth, looking over a readout on her screen. “The RPG hit before some of my added charges could go off, but even with just accelerants, the blast should have been big enough that no one will notice there aren’t any bodies in the wreckage.”

“Hopefully that will do. Yatsu, Yang, thank you for the remote control setup, it worked wonderfully.”

“It worked alright,” Carmina corrected. “I’d still prefer to be in the cockpit.”

“Even if you know it's about to explode?” Yang quipped, mid-high-five with Yatsuhashi.

Mina started to argue, thought better of it, let it drop. “Thank you for saving me from dying in a blazing inferno,” she mumbled.

Yang beamed. “You’re welcome.”

Blake let the banter wash over her, glad to hear that morale was riding high but already worrying about the next steps. Beringer was handled. That was good. The White Fang and, more importantly, Adam and Councilman Oak likely thought they were dead. The element of surprise was always a good thing. They still didn’t know where Coco was being held or how to stop Oak’s push for war, but Blake dared to hope. Things were going well. She was surrounded by the best. Surely they could overcome whatever came next.

Surely.


	36. Turning the Tables

The shabby basement was a blur of activity and mania when Blake and company returned, with much of the running around seeming more a way to burn energy than accomplish anything meaningful. Something about the chaos drew Blake back to the time she’d traveled to Patch with the girls, and she fought a chuckle as the two scenes overlapped in her mind.

Sun stopped throwing things haphazardly in a bag and turned, hardly even wincing as he did. “How’d it go?”

Mina shook her head, stomping wordlessly over toward the corner where she’d stashed her things. Blake watched her go, then looked up at Sun. “It was a trap. The ship’s been destroyed.”

“About how we expected then?”

Blake nodded. “Yeah. How are you?”

“Good as new!” Sun proclaimed, bending side to side to show off how fit he was. Yang happened to be walking past him as he was, and she casually reached out and gave him a feather-light touch on the ribs. “Fuck!” he grunted, then coughed. “Uh…I mean, yup, I’m fine!”

“You are not to do any fighting or heavy lifting today,” Blake ordered. “Do I make myself clear?”

His shoulders drooped. “Yes.”

She walked over, patting him on the shoulder and lowering her voice. “There will be plenty to do today, don’t worry. Please, don’t get yourself killed trying to be a hero.”

Sun looked away, then nodded. “I won’t, I promise.”

Blake gave him another pat before continuing past him. “I’m going to hold you to that.” In a few quick strides, she had reached Hark, still working diligently at his computer. “Tell me you’ve got something.”

His fingers flashed, finishing his latest query, then he sat back, rubbing his weary eyes. “I don’t know…”

“Hark,” she prompted.

“I…ok. Maybe.” He reached out, grabbing Beringer’s scroll and flipping through it. “The big idiot didn’t erase his message history, so of course I started there.”

“And?”

“And I see where he and Oak started their…partnership. It looks Beringer really had him by the balls for a while.”

“There’s an image I could do without, but go on.”

Hark smirked and continued, “There comes a point, about two weeks ago, where Oak starts pushing back. He doesn’t go so far as to call things off, but he clearly isn’t taking orders like he was.”

Blake nodded. “Ok, so something happened, but what?”

“Oak never comes out and says it, at least not to Beringer, but I cross-referenced the date of his first little rebellion with his meeting calendar.”

“Hark, you’re amazing, but I’m going to need you to put on your running shoes and get to the point, preferably today.”

“He met with the second-in-command of the Atlesian Military a few days before he started going rogue,” Hark said in a single breath.

“Really?” Blake said, her eyes lighting up. “What about?”

“That’s the thing. No one knows.”

“Sounds like Oak made a deal with Atlas.”

“Sure does,” Hark agreed. “Is this enough?”

Blake grimaced. “It’s enough to confirm our suspicions, but not enough to stop him.”

Hark’s face fell. “I know, I just hoped…”

“Hey.” Blake reached out and grasped his shoulder, giving him a reassuring squeeze. “This is amazing work. Truly. If you can get me more, that would be downright miraculous.” She wanted a miracle, but she also knew that demanding one wasn’t likely to make it materialize. “Even if you can’t, you’ve still done more than your part. Thank you.”

Hark blushed and looked away, clearly enjoying the well-earned praise. “Just doing my job.”

Blake smiled and nodded, then left him to his work. Even though she knew it held no answers, she wandered over to the wall where she’d laid out the bones of her plan. Scooping up the marker, she added under Oak’s name: 

> **Dealing with Atlas. Treason?**

She stepped back and stared at it, tried to think of what to do next. _What would Coco do?_ She mused on that for a while, imagining the costumes and tricks and schemes the woman would come up with. But she wasn’t Coco, and she needed to stop thinking like her. Blake paced back and forth, staring at the incomplete picture and trying to come up with a way to fill in the blanks.

She stopped dead in her tracks, staring at Oak’s name, her hand flying to her forehead. She had incomplete information, but a solid hunch, the next move was obvious. She had apparently been working as a waitress and a spy for just long enough that she had nearly forgotten the life she’d lived before all that. When secondary sources failed, a good reporter didn’t wait for the story to come to them; they went to the story.

“Hark!” she called, rushing back over to him. “Bring up Oak’s schedule for me.”

He fumbled a bit, surprised by her sudden outburst. “Uh, sure, here.”

Blake scanned the lines, praying she would find what she was looking for. It took her two passes, but she found it. “Perfect,” she whispered as another piece, a big juicy one, fell into place. She smiled her thanks at Hark and then turned to face the room. “Gather ‘round, everyone.”

The gang trickled from their various tasks over to the couches. “She sure is getting comfortable with this whole ‘being the boss thing’,” Sun murmured to Yang as they arrived, drawing a hearty laugh.

“I heard that.” Blake tried to sound annoyed but couldn’t quite muster it; she was far too surprised to see them getting along.

“Heard what?” Sun asked, feigning innocence.

Blake rolled her eyes but couldn’t quite keep the smile off her lips. It took the sight of the whole team seated and waiting on her to get her back to business. “Right.” She started pacing, thinking out loud as much as planning. “Based on Hark’s research, it seems Oak is almost certainly guilty of treason.”

“So we tell people and then mission accomplished?” Jay interjected.

Blake batted his comment aside without losing momentum. “Not quite, but it is the obvious point of attack. The problem is, we don’t have proof. If we’re going to get him voted out, we need something concrete.”

“Unless you have us all sitting here so we can watch you wear a hole in the floor, I’m guessing you have a plan,” Mina said, her eyes hard. Blake didn’t hold it against her. She tried to imagine how she’d react if Yang were being held prisoner by Adam, then immediately banished that terrible image.

She stopped in place. “I do. We’re going to go ask him about it.”

Eight jaws dropped beneath eight sets of staring eyes. The long stretch of silence was broken just as Blake was starting to squirm by a scoffing laugh.

“You’re, I’m sorry, you’re going to ask him about it?” Carmina struggled out, her laughter sounding more than a little manic. “That’s your plan?”

The others looked from their wildly laughing pilot to their scowling de-facto leader, no one quite sure which was the crazy one. Blake set her shoulders against the laughter and the doubting looks, but she could feel herself wilting slightly, completely at a loss as to how to get things back on track.

She was rescued, as she so often was, by Yang. “Hey!” The single syllable abruptly cut Carmina’s laugh off as she turned toward its source and was met by a fearsome glare. Yang’s eyes burned like smoldering embers set in stone. Her voice, when she spoke next, was quiet and calm but dark enough to conceal unspeakable dangers in its depths. “She says she has a plan, so maybe shut the fuck up and listen. Ok?”

Carmina did her best to save face and not look cowed, but she didn’t attempt to return fire. “Whatever.” Turning, red-faced, back to Blake, she shrugged. “Well?”

Blake made a mental note to add another item to the growing list of reasons she owed Yang everything and collected herself. “Oak is power-hungry, but it’s not enough for him just to have power. He needs others around him to see his power, be in awe of it.”

“How do you know that?” Aqua asked.

“It’s a common trait in politicians and others who seek power.” _Like, for instance, someone who very recently murdered their former mentor for control over a terrorist organization,_ Blake added to herself. “They feel incomplete unless people are fawning over how great they are.”

“Assuming you’re right, how does this help us?” Jay asked.

“Everyone has a preferred audience. For some, it’s huge crowds. For others, it’s servants or assistants or even family. No doubt Oak enjoys all of those, but his biggest weakness is women. Specifically young, pretty ones willing to feed his enormous ego.”

Carmina scoffed. “So, what? You think you can just walk in and flirt with him until he reveals his big master plan? Are you sure he’s the one with the big ego?”

Blake blew her reflexive retort out as a sharp breath before allowing herself to respond. “Mina? Stow it. I don’t have time for your attitude.” After a few more breaths, Blake was ready to share the rest of her thought process. “I’m assuming that he’s dying to talk to someone. He’s on the verge of the culmination of weeks of scrambling out from under Beringer's thumb only to turn it all into a power play meant to change the world order. I may think the guy is a monster, but that’s impressive as hell and, as far as I can tell, no one knows. This must be killing him. He’ll tell the first person he can if he thinks they aren’t a threat, and who better than some ditz he’s trying to bang between meetings?”

“That’s…actually a decent plan,” Carmina admitted, sitting back. “There’s just one problem.”

Blake bit back another comeback. “What?”

“It can’t be you.”

“Why?”

“Are you forgetting your last one-on-one with Oak? It didn’t exactly go great. And that’s not to mention our run-in with him at the hospital. ”

Blake cringed but wasn’t going to be so easily deterred. “That doesn’t matter, I’ll wear a new disguise. He won’t recognize me.”

“He will,” Mina insisted. “Think about it. What do we know about that man? He’s a pig and a racist. The only two things he’ll remember about you are the shape of your ass.” To emphasize her point, she jabbed a finger at Blake’s hips, then tracked it upward to the top of her head. “And your ears.”

Blake looked away, her ears going flat as her mind raced. She tried to come up with a reason it would be fine, why she could still do it, but she came up empty. “Fuck,” she spat. She was back to square one, and they were running out of time.

No.

She looked around at the group surrounding her. A group that included a handful of other women. She wasn’t the only one who could do the job. She let out a deep breath. “You’re right. I’m out. But this is still the best I’ve got, so I’m going to have to ask someone else to take my place.”

Carmina shook her head. “He probably didn’t see my face, but Oak’s not exactly my type…”

“He’s no one’s type,” Blake responded. “I’m not asking anyone to actually sleep with him, just make him think you will and get him talking.” When Mina looked ready to protest again, she added, “You’re out anyway. I’m going to need you on standby to extract Coco as soon as we find her.”

The pilot smiled and looked away. “Thank you,” she muttered.

Blake nodded, understanding. Even if she hadn’t needed her for her piloting skills, she wouldn’t have sent her. Carmina wasn’t going to be good for much unless it involved finding and rescuing Coco. Blake could hardly blame her, so rather than fight against those impulses, she would make use of them. “You can thank me when we find her.”

“Deal.”

Blake looked around. “Anyone else?”

When her eyes landed on Aqua, the sapper’s eyes bulged. “Don’t look at me,” she sputtered. “Seduction isn’t really my thing, and I doubt I’m his type.” She gestured to her long, hard body.

Blake was on the verge of denying it but realized the truth. “You’re right.” Aqua’s face fell, so she quickly went on. “He’s an idiot, but you’re right. I think you’re at least as tall as him, and he strikes me as one of those guys who can’t handle that.” _Plus, you look like you could snap him in half with one arm, but that’s beside the point_. “Besides, you actually spoke to him at the hospital, he would definitely recognize you.” Aqua nodded her relief.

Yang looked around and sighed. “Fine,” she began, but was cut off.

“I’ll do it.”

Now it was Ivy’s turn to fall under the surprised gaze of eight sets of eyes. “Come again?” Jay choked out.

Ivy shrugged. “I’ll do it.” When no one responded, she looked around, her eyes landing on Jay. “What?”

The rifleman looked around for help, but none came. He looked back at Ivy, clearly unnerved by her emerald stare. “You heard what’s involved, right?”

“Sure,” she replied calmly. “I need to make Oak think I want to have sex with him, then get him to tell me about his deal with Atlas. Simple. I was behind Yatsu back at the hospital; he probably never even saw me.”

“But, you…” Jay trailed off, glaring furiously at his teammates who had so thoroughly abandoned him.

“You don’t think I can do it,” Ivy stated.

“I didn’t say that-“

Ivy stood up, and with a sway to her hips that Blake had never seen before, she strutted over to where Jay was seated, wide-eyed. In a smooth motion she spun down onto his lap, her legs crossed artfully as she stared down into his eyes. One hand, oddly still and fluid, came up and trailed gently down his face toward his jaw as she gazed at him with heavy-lidded eyes. “Or are you saying I’m not pretty enough?” she asked, her voice low and sultry through pouted lips.

Jay gaped up at her. “I…I, uh…wow, umm.” He blinked and suddenly seemed to realize who was on his lap. “Guys?” he pleaded, looking around. No one came to his rescue; even the air had fallen still as the team sat in shocked silence, spellbound by what they were witnessing.

Ivy let her hand drop, and as though flipping a switch, she was back to being the quirky codebreaker they all knew and loved, though notably still seated on Jay’s lap. “Just because all of this,” she said, gesturing vaguely to the stunned man on whom she was perched. “Isn’t my…thing. And just because I don’t like to pretend, doesn’t mean I can’t, if that’s what needs to be done.” She turned to Blake, her bright eyes firm and steady. “For Coco? I can do it,” she insisted.

“I’ll say you can,” Blake remarked, still blinking through her surprise. “Anyone disagree?” Stunned ‘no’s and slowly shaking heads indicated they did not. “You will have to wear something else, though. Not quite a disguise but...” she added, hoping her point was getting across to the modestly dressed woman.

Ivy nodded. “I know,” she said, rising and leaving Jay to hastily rearrange his legs. Blake smirked but didn’t call him on it, she could hardly hold a natural reaction against him, and there was no reason to torture the poor guy further. “But I’m going to pick it.”

Blake shrugged. “Works for me.” Ivy smiled. “Go get ready. You leave in half an hour.”

Ivy swept toward the corner where Coco’s costumes had been stashed, and Carmina looked up. “And the rest of us?”

“Everyone but Jay is going to be searching for Coco. We know that she’s in Mistral, so let’s find her.”

“Wait, what am I going to be doing?” Jay asked.

“You’re going with Ivy.”

His face paled. “I…are you sure? Maybe-“

Blake rolled her eyes. “I’m sure. Go with her, stay out of sight but close. If something goes wrong, you bust in and get her out.”

His discomfort was replaced instantly by excitement. “Are you giving me permission to go live?”

Blake almost said no, but she realized they were past the point of half-measures, and she was done losing people. Still, she chose her words carefully. “I’m telling you to do what it takes to keep her safe. To keep both of you safe.” She sighed, hoping she wouldn’t regret her words. “But Jay, if it’s possible to avoid hurting anyone, please take that route.”

He looked up, unusually earnest as he responded, “You got it, boss.”

“Good.” Blake twitched at the unfamiliar label but nodded his dismissal. “Get to it.” Turning to the others, she refocused on the next task. “Yatsu, have you had a chance to narrow down where Coco might be?”

“Not really.” The big man shrugged. I’ve ruled out the places that are either too far or too shielded by the mountain to be possible, but beyond that…”

Blake nodded. “Hark, help him. Remove all places too public or owned by known entities. We need the tightest list you can manage, and we need it an hour ago.”

“Got it. Come on, Yatsu, let’s go look at that map of yours.” The pair walked away, conferring in low voices about the task at hand.

_And then there were five._ “Carmina, get to the hangar. Prep the ship. As soon as we have locations, I want you airborne and scouting, then ready for a quick pickup.”

The pilot was already on her feet and halfway to the stairs by the time Blake finished. “You got it.”

“And Mina?” Blake met her eye as she turned back. “No heroics; no swooping in before the rest of us are ready. We do this together. Yeah?”

There was a tense moment as Carmina stared at her, obviously debating defying her order. Instead, she turned and growled, “I’ll do my part. You’d best do yours.” Then she stomped up the stairs, muttering to herself as she went.

Blake watched her go, considering running after her and reiterating her orders but doubting it would do much good. Her attention was brought back to the circle when Aqua cleared her throat.

“So, what about us?”

She turned and looked at the sapper. “Something tells me that we aren’t going to get down to one location all at once,” Blake said, thinking out loud. “So we’re going split into two teams and be ready to check out each possibility as they come up. Sun?” She winced as she watched him sit up straighter and pretend to be fine. “How mobile are you?”

He smiled. “Today probably isn’t the day to take my shot at the circus, but I can get around.”

Blake knew he was overselling it, but she didn’t have the luxury of letting him sit out. “I want you to play it safe, but I need you to watch Aqua’s back. Can you do that?”

“Yeah, no sweat,” he said, shrugging as though running into danger with a relatively fresh stab wound in his side was about as daunting as heading to the corner store for some milk.

“I’m going to say the same thing to you as Carmina: no heroics. You and Aqua watch out for each other and call for help if you need it. Mina can extract you if necessary; the rest of us will get there as soon as we can.”

Sun smirked. “It’s pretty hard for me to avoid being heroic, but I’ll do my best.”

“Sun,” Blake warned.

His smirk fell away, and he nodded. “Yeah, yeah, I got it.”

“Thank you.” She tried not to think about the possibility that she was sending them all to their deaths, mostly failing. “Yang, you and I are the other team. Get as many gadgets as Aqua can spare and gear up. If possible, we’re going to hang back and monitor Ivy’s mission, but we need to be ready to roll out as soon as necessary.”

“Sure thing,” Yang said, giving her a small smile that washed over Blake like a warm breeze. Then she turned to Aqua. “You mind sharing some of your toys?”

“With you? I suppose not.” The pair got up, trash-talking and laughing like a couple of jocks before the big game, oozing with bravado for the victory they felt was already theirs. Blake tried to channel some of their confidence, finding little enough within herself.

“Everything’s going to be fine,” Sun said, watching her closely.

“I…” Blake stopped midway through denying she had any doubts and looked around. No one else was close enough to listen, so she walked over and flopped down on the couch next to him.

“You don’t know that,” she muttered.

“Sure I do,” Sun replied, his voice low and smile easy. “Your plan is good, and your team is better. We can do this. Besides,” he added, peeking over his shoulder. “You and lover girl over there seemed to have patched things up, so you can’t go fucking it up now.”

“Gee, thanks,” Blake deadpanned, rolling her eyes at his shit-eating grin.

“Don’t mention it.” Sun stood, stretching and twisting and seeming to move more easily than he had earlier. It made Blake feel the tiniest bit less guilty for sending him out like this, and for getting him hurt in the first place. “Just try to trust your team, ok?”

“I do-“

“If you did,” he interjected, keeping his voice down. “You wouldn’t worry so much about whether your plan is going to work.”

Blake cocked her head. “What? Why?”

Sun smiled down at her. “Because you would trust your team to tell you if your plan sucked, and we didn’t.” He gave a cheeky wink and walked around the couch, off to make his own preparations. “So lighten up, would you?” he added.

Blake sat back on the ragged couch, staring at the words on the wall, words she’d written. It seemed so thin, so meaningless, but those few words had helped her assemble a scrap of a plan, and the rest of the team had supported her. Sun was right, they had no reason to follow her if they thought she was leading them toward disaster, yet here they all were, showing her with their actions that they believed in her.

It was only fair that she return the favor.


	37. Codebreaker/Heartbreaker

“How do I look?”

Yang suspected she wasn’t the only one gaping, but she still flushed as she caught herself. A quick glance showed her that not everyone had managed even that yet, with only Aqua and Hark appraising the newly transformed Ivy with any sort of remove. Jay was very studiously cleaning a rifle, though the color in his cheeks was as clear as a neon sign. It was hard to blame him, or anyone for that matter. Ivy stood before them, one hip cocked under the form-fitting, cream-colored dress she had chosen. Yang had never seen her wear makeup before, but it was clear she was quite proficient with it. With just the right touches, she had highlighted her high cheekbones, full lips, and of course, her big, emerald eyes, shining all the brighter for the expertly applied eye shadow. Her mass of hair had been left to its own devices, but in Yang’s opinion, that only served to enhance the overall effect.

“Not bad,” Aqua commented.

“Not bad?!” Sun exclaimed. “She looks fantastic!”

Jay’s head snapped up, a slight growl escaping his lips before he guiltily looked back down. Blake shook her head. “At ease, boys,” she remarked, her eyes traveling up and down the tight dress Ivy had chosen a few more times than Yang thought strictly necessary. “You do look fantastic, though. I like that dress.”

“Thanks,” Ivy smiled, her red lips parting broadly as her hands suddenly disappeared at her sides. “It has pockets!”

Blake burst out laughing as she approached the woman, giving her a final once over before reaching out and attaching a small brooch to the fabric near her shoulder. “This isn’t quite as exciting as pockets in a dress, but it is very important.”

“Camera and microphone?” Ivy guessed.

“You got it. With just as much range as our radios and battery for three or four hours, so you should be all set. We’ll be able to hear and see what you do the whole time, but there’s one problem.”

“I won’t be able to hear you,” she supplied.

Blake nodded, her lips tight. “We can’t risk blowing your cover by giving you an earpiece. You won’t be alone, though. If you call for help, Jay will bust down any door in the way and be there in seconds. Right, Jay?”

Jay nodded, still red-faced as he met Ivy’s gaze, but steadfast all the same. “Right.”

“I’ll be ok,” Ivy said, checking her reflection in the mirror Coco must have procured and making minor adjustments.

“I know,” Blake said. “But it’s my job to worry.” She leaned in and checked the brooch one last time before seeming satisfied. “Just remember the plan: get him to cough up his secrets and get out of there, and be careful.”

Ivy smiled. “Is that all?”

Despite the worry still lingering in her eyes, Blake returned it. “That’s all.”

“Well, that’s only three things,” Ivy said, making one last adjustment. “Shall we?” Jay nodded and walked toward the stairs. “Hold on,” Ivy called, scurrying after him. “Give me your arm.” Jay’s eyes nearly fell out of his head as he looked down at her. “What?” she said, reaching out and grabbing his arm, giving him a sharp tug to get him moving again. “It’s just so I don’t trip in these heels.” They made their way carefully up the stairs, Jay looking more focused than Yang had ever seen him as they went.

“I’m honestly not sure what the weirdest part of all of that was,” Aqua snarked when the big door upstairs thudded shut.

“I think it was the part where Ivy has secretly been a total hottie this whole time,” Sun volunteered.

“Enough,” Yatsu said, his tone firm. “She’s our teammate. She was geared up for a mission. That’s all.”

Sun cast his eyes down. “You’re right, sorry.”

“Still, though,” Aqua said. “Jay’s face.”

Yatsu’s scowl cracked as he snorted. The snort eventually became a booming laugh that spread through the room like wildfire. “Alright, alright,” Blake said, still giggling and wiping a tear from her eye. “Leave the poor guy alone. Everyone, get to work.” Then she took a deep breath and started snapping off orders. “Yatsu, wipe that smile off your face and make sure the video and audio feed from Ivy are good. Hark, I need locations, and I need them now. Aqua, Sun, you two get ready. You’ll head to the first address Hark gives you; Yang and I are on deck.”

“Yes, ma’am,”

“You got it, boss.”

Yang watched everyone hop to work, still impressed at how quickly Blake seemed to have taken up the mantle of leadership. After a moment, she caught herself staring and sidled up next to Aqua to load up on gear.

“Hey,” the tall sapper said. “You going to cover that hole in your arm up, or what?”

“I don’t know,” Yang said, examining the scorched gash. “I think it gives it character.”

Aqua rolled her eyes and tossed her some black tape. “At least cover up the circuitry. You’ve got to take care of your equipment-“

“Or it won’t take care of me. Yeah yeah,” Yang finished for her, taking the tape and wrapping it around her damaged forearm. “I’ve only known you for a few days, and I already feel like I’ve heard that saying a thousand times.”

“That’s because it’s the most important saying I know, and now it’s the most important one you know.”

Yang smiled and shook her head but did as she was told. She realized it’d be a lie to say she didn’t like being doted on a bit. It was almost like having a big sister watching out for her. Not so bad. “Be careful out there today.”

Aqua scoffed. “Me? I’m always careful. Besides, there are worse wingmen than Sun.”

“I…believe that, actually.”

“You should, but you’ve got a pretty solid partner yourself, eh?”

Yang looked up, rolling her eyes when she was met with a ludicrous wink. “No complaints,” she said, studiously arranging her gear.

Aqua laughed, patting her solidly on the shoulder. “That’s what I like to hear.” Her laughter faded as her voice grew serious. “You two take care of each other. Ya hear?”

“We will,” Yang replied, looking over her shoulder to find Blake pacing nervously. As though she felt the gaze, she stopped and looked up, and their eyes met. Yang felt herself warming, and she could see just the slightest bit of tension go out of Blake’s shoulders. She turned back to her task, stowing various gadgets in the pockets of her jacket. “We will,” she repeated.

\--

“Aqua, report.” Blake prowled the increasingly empty basement, her heart pounding in her chest as she waited for a reply.

“Aq-“

“Yeah, yeah, I’m here.”

“Report.”

“We’re outside the building, no sign of guards or security, but we’re not going to rush in until we’ve had a chance to scout.”

“Good, good,” Blake responded, fighting the urge to chew her fingernails down to the bone. “Best to be cautious.”

“Don’t worry, Blake,” Sun’s voice cut in. “We’re fine.”

“Who says I’m worried?”

Sun chuckled. “No one. We’ll keep you posted.”

Blake stomped over to where Yatsu was monitoring a video feed. It showed a posh street somewhere in the upper tiers. The image was swaying lightly as Ivy walked down the street, heading straight for a large white building at one end. There was no longer any sign of Jay.

“Jay, report,” she said, her words sounding harsh and clipped even to her own ears.

“The uh…escort who was supposed to be headed for Oak has been waylaid. Ivy is on her way.”

“So I see. You best have been polite to that woman.”

“I was! I just told her that Oak was busy and she should come back tomorrow. I even paid her cancellation fee, which was not cheap…”

“You’ll live. Are you in position?”

“Almost. The coast looks clear, so I should be able to post up just outside the room. If I need to come in loud, I’ll be less than five seconds away.”

“Good, because you’re the only cavalry Ivy has.”

“I won’t let her down.”

“I know you won’t. We’ll be in touch.”

“Sounds good, Jay out.”

“Hey, Blake?”

She snapped her head around, suddenly pulled back into her immediate surroundings at the sound of her name. “Yeah, Hark?”

“The first wave of exit polls are coming in.”

“Shit, already?”

“It’s nearly eleven…”

Blake was about to deny that so much time could have passed but was interrupted by her stomach growling mightily. No wonder too, she was relatively certain she hadn’t eaten anything for breakfast, and it was nearly lunch. “Right,” she acknowledged. “How’s it looking?”

“About an even split so far. Maybe Ivy was right. Maybe the people won’t vote for war.”

Blake shrugged. “I’m not going to hang my hat on ‘maybe’. Besides, it’s early. Things could easily tilt heavily against us. We continue with the plan.”

“Sure, just wanted to let you know.”

“I…thanks, Hark.” Blake sighed. She really couldn’t bring herself to believe that the people of Mistral were going to pull through, not with the messaging Oak had been blaring at them about the dangers of Atlas for the past few days. Still, no reason to burst everyone else’s bubble. “Keep me posted.”

“She’s in,” Yatsu announced.

Blake turned back to the monitor, seeing through the little camera pinned to Ivy’s chest as she strolled down a richly carpeted hallway of white marble. “Did she have any trouble at the door?”

Yatsu shook his head and smiled. “She just said she was there to see Oak, giggled, and that was it. Seems our girl’s a pro.”

“That she is,” Blake mused, watching as a large wooden door loomed large on the screen. A moment later, a gloved hand reached out and knocked, someone escorting Ivy, no doubt. There was no reply, but the hand opened the door and instructed her to wait within. Ivy entered, and Blake was relieved to see she had been taken to the room they’d expected. It had all been a bit of a gamble, but Oak scheduling an hour for tea in his mansion between a slew of important meetings had stood out like a sore thumb. It had seemed unlikely that he would be meeting a lover given the hour and location, so she had banked on it being a more… professional visit. Thank the Brothers she'd been right. Now Ivy just had to bring it home.

The basement was deathly silent as they watched the feed flit about the room, carried along by Ivy’s restless feet. “Easy,” Blake murmured, wishing more than ever that they’d come up with a way to get a signal to the woman so central to their plan, if only to help keep her calm. The sound of the large door opening creaked over the speaker, and the image blurred as Ivy spun toward it. Blake held her breath.

“It’s not polite to keep a lady waiting,” Ivy purred. Blake smiled, realizing she had been projecting her own nerves onto what she was seeing. _Maybe it’s best I can’t talk to her_ , she thought.

“That's curious, I don’t recall asking for a _lady_ ,” Oak quipped as he shut the door behind himself. “I also don’t recall asking for you.” He looked her up and down, looking far from displeased. “I was not informed there would be a…substitution.”

“Am I not to your liking?”

“I didn’t say that. I just don’t like surprises.”

Blake didn’t like where things were going, and she definitely didn’t like the shrewd look on Oak’s face. “If I displease you, I can always go.” Blake nearly choked. What was Ivy doing?

Oak’s face split into his perfect smile. “No, darling, I didn’t say that. Please, forgive my rudeness. It’s a big day. Come, sit down and have some tea, won’t you?”

Blake’s jaw dropped. Ivy was making her feel like an amateur and playing Oak like a fiddle. She watched as they sat and the Councilman doted on Ivy, serving her tea and making a show of being a gentleman. For several minutes they talked and flirted, Ivy displaying enough wit to keep him interested but never too much, never enough to intimidate him. All the while, she dropped innuendos lightly and subtly enough to be played off, but consistently enough that Oak was all but salivating. It was a masterclass; Blake was tempted to take notes.

As time wore on, the act started to wear a bit on Blake. Sure, Oak was completely taken in, but he hadn’t said anything of value yet, and the clock was ticking. It seemed the Councilman was equally aware of the passage of time, and with about half of his cup of tea remaining, he knocked the whole thing back in a single swallow. “So, my dear,” he announced. “Now that we’ve gotten to know each other, shall we perhaps get down to business.”

Blake clenched her jaw. She didn’t want to send Jay in to extricate Ivy if she could help it, but what if he got handsy and she panicked. What if-?

“How can we get down to anything with you so tense?” Ivy admonished. “Look at you. Your shoulders are hunched up to your ears. Take your jacket off, let me help you get a bit more…comfortable.”

Impatience flashed across Oak’s face, but his features smoothed as the implied intimacy tucked into Ivy’s offer sunk in. With a half-smile, he shook himself out of his suit jacket and tossed it aside, loosening his tie as he did. The image rose and spun as Ivy got up and circled his chair, giving them a close view of the back of Oak’s head as Ivy’s hands reached out, so still and sure they hardly looked like hers. In short order, she had him groaning his appreciation as her fingers worked into the bunched knots of his shoulders, and she tutted and hummed over the state of his poor body.

After a few moments, Ivy spoke up again. “If someone like you is this tense, I’ve got to imagine it’s pretty serious.”

“Don’t you watch the news, my dear?”

“Of course,” she assured him. “But you can’t possibly be this worked up over a little vote.”

There was a long beat of silence. Blake held her breath as she waited, wondering what wheels were turning in the grey head dominating most of the screen before her. Ivy had taken her shot, but was it enough?

“Can you keep a secret, my dear?” Blake let her breath out, daring to hope.

Ivy let out a throaty chuckle. “Of course, that’s a requirement of my…position.”

Oak reached up and grasped one of her hands, kissing it and smiling over his shoulder before replacing it, not noticing the slight twitch of its mate at his unwanted touch. “I’m about to become the sole ruler of the Kingdom of Mistral,” he declared.

Ivy’s hands paused for just a beat before continuing their work. “I thought the powers you were seeking were temporary.”

Oak scoffed. “The vote? A triviality, my dear, a stepping stone. I need it, to be sure, but it simply opens up the path. There will be war, you know.”

“War, really?” Ivy’s concern sounded genuine, probably was. Blake knew they all had plenty to spare on that front.

Oak moaned as she worked out another knot, clearly less upset about the possibility of bloodshed than they were. “Yes, my dear, but no need to fret; I will bring it to a swift conclusion. Once arrangements are made with Atlas, I will be made ruler of Mistral; my friend General Tephra has seen to that. I just need to make sure no one gets in the way of a…smooth transition of power.” Oak reached up again and rubbed Ivy’s hand, grasping it as he stood and turned, using it to pull her close. “Now, enough talk, I think,” he murmured.

“Well…I,” Ivy stammered, stepping back. “Now I’m frightened,” she finished, her voice playful. “All this talk of war. How can you be so sure it will all work out as you say?”

“I…” Oak trailed off, looking directly at the camera. “You ask a lot of questions,” he growled, looking up at her and then back at the camera.

“Fuck,” Blake said. “She’s been made.”

“Boss, we have a problem.”

Blake looked around the room for Aqua, remembering a moment later that she was already out scouting. “So do we. Can it wait?”

“Uh…not really.”

“Can you handle it?”

Aqua paused for a moment. “Yes.”

“Ok, do what you think is best. I’ll get back to you in a minute.”

During the brief distraction, the scene in the room had deteriorated, but Ivy had managed to back up away from the red-faced Oak. Just when Blake expected him to start yelling, she saw the beginning of a grin on his face, only for it to be wiped away by fear. She did not like any of it.

“I said what you wanted. Please don’t hurt me!” he groveled, quaking with fear. “I don’t know what any of that was about, but I did as you asked, so put the gun away!”

“What?” Ivy asked, her empty hands held out in front of her. “What are you talking about?”

“I’ll never betray my kingdom, even if Atlas sends every assassin they’ve got!” Oak declared, lunging behind the table and picking up his chair as though to defend himself. “Guards!” he cried.

“Jay!” Blake shouted at nearly the same time. Based on how quickly the window shattered, she needn’t have bothered. Jay’s boots clomped on the bedroom floor as he rolled into the room and came to one knee in front of Ivy, pistol in hand.

Exactly as Oak wanted.

The Councilman practically jumped up and clicked his heels together. The narrative he had been trying to construct with his voice was now real. All he had to do was wait to be found at gunpoint. “Jay, his security team is coming. Get out. Now!” Blake hissed.

“Right. Ivy, let's go.”

“But I can’t-“ Ivy began, cutting off as the camera swung wildly up toward the ceiling, showing the bottom of Jay’s chin. Blake and the rest watched as he carried Ivy back to the window, carefully climbing through and coming down hard in the bushes outside just as the sound of footsteps thundered in the hall outside the big wooden door.

Then the pair was racing down an alley, Jay leading Ivy by the hand and stopping to check every corner before pulling her around it and sprinting to the next. For a few minutes, this pattern continued, punctuated by the occasional shouts of those pursuing them.

Blake fretted as she watched, clutching Yatsuhashi’s massive shoulder and feeling just as much tension there. Finally, they stopped, ducking into a dark alcove. “Jay,” she hissed, keeping her voice low as though she were there with them. “Did you lose them?”

“For now,” he replied, panting slightly.

“Can you make it back?”

She watched from Ivy’s chest as Jay looked around and performed some mental calculation. His grimace in the shadowy alcove was not encouraging. “Not quickly, at least not without potentially leading Oak’s security and, assuming I saw what I think I did, Mistral PD back with me.”

Blake cursed as her mind raced. Or rather, tried to race as it spun uselessly in place, creating a lot of heat and noise for no gain. That didn’t stop her from snarling when she was interrupted by Hark, though.

“Uh…we have a problem.”

“I know!” she snapped.

“No, not that,” he said.

“Is it Aqua?” He shook his head, and Blake threw her hands up. “Then what is it?”

Silently, he held out his scroll. Blake snatched it from his hand and looked down, her eyes going wide as she saw the headline.

> **Mistral Council Abducted by Atlas Agents**

Her eyes scanned the first few lines of text, but none of it sank in. “What…what is this?” she asked, looking up at Hark, slack-jawed.

He took his scroll back and shook his head sadly. “It’s Oak’s play; it must be. He had the rest of the council snatched up. Even if we could convince people that what he said to Ivy wasn’t coerced, which I’m not sure we could, there’s no one with the power to stop him now.”

And just like that, Blake’s hope shattered, leaving her hanging in a void, the feeling of weightlessness giving way as she started to fall.


	38. Under Pressure

“What do we do?” Hark demanded.

“I-“

_I don’t know._

“Where should we go?” Jay’s asked, his voice terse and low as he looked for pursuers.

“You-“

_What do I do?_

“Boss, you got a sec?”

“Aqua?”

_It’s over. It’s all my fault it-_

“Blake.”

Blake felt a pair of mismatched hands gently cradling her cheeks and looked up at Yang’s face, inches from her own. “I can’t do this,” she whispered, defeated.

“Yes, you can.” Yang stared into her eyes, compassion and comfort and love flowing out of her, battering against the cold gates of Blake’s mind. She could see the help being offered, so close, but couldn’t let it in. She didn’t deserve it, didn’t deserve the woman holding her. “Hey, look at me.”

Blake dragged her eyes back up, saw herself reflected in a pool of black wrapped in lilac, those disks burning with so much life that she almost looked away again. “It’s all my fault,” she whispered.

Yang shook her head, her jaw set in defiance. “No, it’s not, and now is not the time for a pity party. We all followed you into this because we believed, and we’ll follow you until the end, but you need to stick it out, too.”

“What if I can’t?”

“You can, and whenever you don’t believe it, I’ll drag you along until you remember who you are, what you’re capable of.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean, why?”

Blake’s eyes burned, but she refused to cry. “I’m not worth it. Look at what I’ve done!”

Hark and Yatsu averted their eyes, making a visible effort to feign deafness. Yang spared them a glance before looking back at Blake. “You are worth it,” she murmured, leaning close and pressing her forehead against Blake’s. “You’re worth everything to me, and just as much to this team. They followed you here because you gave them hope.”

“Hope,” Blake scoffed. Stupid word, that.

“Yes, hope,” Yang replied. “There’s no point in living without it.” She cast her eyes down, laughing low in her throat. “Believe me; I’ve tried.”

“And now?” Blake asked, curious despite herself.

Yang took a deep breath. “And now I find myself hoping again, fool that I am. Hoping that you’ll pull us out of this. Hoping that, after, you might stick around in a…forever kind of way.”

Blake’s breath caught, a single tear sneaking its way past her defenses. “Yang, I-“

“Not now,” Yang interrupted, brushing the renegade tear aside with her thumb. “Now it’s time for you to pick your ass back up and finish the job.”

Blake’s heart sank. “But I don’t know what-“

Yang pulled her close, her words tickling Blake’s neck as she spoke. “You don’t need all of the answers. Just take the next step.” She pulled back, brushing an errant lock behind Blake’s ear and staring into her eyes. “One step at a time. Ok?”

Blake nodded, closing her eyes for a moment. “Ok. One step at a time.” She reached up and keyed her radio. “Jay? Do you know a place you can lay low and be safe, just for a few hours?”

“Yeah…” Jay trailed off, considering. ”Yes, I can do that. No promises that it will stay safe overnight.”

“No need,” Blake said, gaining momentum. “In a few hours, we’ll either have won or lost; you just need to keep yourselves hidden and safe until then.”

“What if you need me?”

“All I need is for you to keep Ivy and yourself safe. You two have done your parts.”

“Ok,…hold on, Ivy wants to talk to you.”

There was a brief rustling, then Ivy came on. “Blake?”

“I’m here, Ivy.”

“I’m so sorry,” the codebreaker moaned. “I messed everything up!”

“Ivy, no,” Blake replied. “You were magnificent. I couldn’t have done nearly as well as you. You should be proud, I know I am.”

“I…ok.” There was a shuddering breath. “Have you checked my polling models against the data that’s coming out?”

Blake smiled, back to the numbers already. Her smile faltered when she remembered the newest issue. “Not yet, but we may have other problems. The Council has been abducted.”

“Oh… that could throw a wrench in things.”

_Understatement of the year._ “Indeed. Look, you did well. I want you to go with Jay and hide out for a while. Look after him, will you?”

“Of course,” Ivy replied, earnest as ever. “I’ll talk to you soon, Blake.”

“Talk soon, Ivy.”

“Alright, boss,” Jay cut back in. “I’m going to get us moving again. I’ll send word when we’re situated.

“Sounds good, Jay. Be safe.”

“You know me. Jay out.”

Blake chewed her lip, worrying about the Councilmen. She looked at Yang, who smiled encouragingly back at her. _One step at a time._ She breathed, then hit the radio again. “Aqua, report.”

“Short version: no one was here. No Coco, no White Fang, no one.”

“That’s disappointing, but not really a problem-“

“That’s not all. There was a bomb.”

“What?!”

Despite the news she’d just delivered, Aqua replied, cool as anything. “Yeah, quite a big one too. You said to handle it, though, so I disarmed it.”

Blake’s head spun. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize…is everything ok?”

The sapper chuckled. “It’s fine, this is my specialty after all, and it wasn’t the bomb itself that’s got me worried.”

“Not the bomb…then what are you worried about?”

“Where it was placed.”

“You’re going to have to spell it out for me, Aqua.”

“Sorry, right. Remember how I said RLIC had me surveying Mistral and finding spots that were potential targets for attack? This was one of those locations.”

“That’s not great. Where are you?”

“Just below a water treatment facility. Taking this down could contaminate the entire aquifer that supplies Mistral.”

“Shit. Good thing you disarmed it. Where are the other locations you scouted?”

“That’s the thing, I know there are a few more that likely fall inside Yatsu’s search region. Have him pull up my report from last month, should be easy to find.”

Blake looked at Yatsu, but he was already busily typing away at his keyboard. “Here,” he announced. “Hold on, she provided a map, let me just overlay it with mine…there.”

Blake looked at his display. Three targets from Aqua’s report landed around the perimeter of Yatsu’s map, one of which was the facility Aqua had just saved. “Are we sure that they’ll stick within this area?” Blake asked.

Aqua chipped in. “The bomb was remote-controlled, radio receiver, not that big. I doubt the range would be much larger or less impacted by the shadow of the mountain than our headsets. If I had known, I would have brought my signal jammer, but…”

“You can’t predict everything,” Blake remarked, seriously wishing she could. “Looks like there are two locations left. One is nearby.”

“Yeah, I know the place. Sun and I are headed that way.”

“The third is kind of far…” Blake said, considering. “Mina, you on?”

“Yeah,” the pilot’s voice came back. “I’m already prepping for liftoff.”

“Good, we’ll send you a location to pick up Aqua and Sun, then you can take them to the last target.”

“Think Coco will be at one of them?” Carmina prompted.

Blake hesitated, considered lying, then thought better of it. “Honestly, no,” she said, looking at the combined map. “Though I could be wrong.”

“Well what about-?“

Everything clicked, all at once. “Yang and I are on it,” Blake said, striding over to where her small pile of gear was waiting.

“But-“

“Mina,” Blake snapped. “The best way you can help Coco is to make sure the mountain doesn’t blow up around her. I’m not asking.”

“Fuck, fine,” Carmina growled. “But as soon as we take care of these bombs, I’m coming to help.”

“Deal,” Blake said, keying off her mic.

“So…where are we going?” Yang asked, scrambling to grab her things as Blake swung toward the stairs.

Blake paused. “Hark, toss me Beringer’s scroll, would you?” He complied, and she snatched the gracefully arcing device out of the air. “Thanks, and I want an address where the White Fang could hide hostages in that open space near the center of Yatsu’s map. You have fifteen minutes.”

“What about the Council members?” he asked.

She paused. “Do you think Atlas actually took them?”

Hark considered the question. “No,” he said, shaking his head. “Definitely not.”

“So who do you think has them?”

Hark cocked his head. “You think it’s the Fang. All of it.”

Blake shrugged. “It’s a guess, but it’s the best I’ve got. Councilmen snatched from their homes, bombs ready to go off and look like a pre-emptive strike, and someone pinning the blame on Atlas? Who better?”

“What if it wasn’t them?”

“If I’m wrong, then we’ll need a new lead, and we’ll need it fast. We need the Council back and voting Oak out before the polls close, and we have no idea when those bombs might go off. Good thing I’ve got the best information gatherer in the business. Get me that address, then start looking for other possibilities. Yang?” Two bright lilac eyes turned her way, taking her breath away as always. “Grab that signal jammer that Aqua forgot.”

Without another word, Blake flowed up the stairs, Yang hot on her heels. As the door shut behind them and they set off at a jog down the street. Yang tossed the jammer up in the air once and caught it, then stuffed it away in her jacket. “So, again, where are we going?”

Blake grinned over at her. “What happened to one step at a time?”

“Sure, throw that one back at me.”

“With pleasure,” Blake quipped, but her smile faded. “I find it unlikely that Adam would be set up near any of the bombs, so that leaves the open space near the middle of the city.”

“Assuming it’s him.”

“Assuming it’s him,” she agreed.

“What if he ducked out of town once the bombs were set?”

Blake shook her head. “No, he’ll want to be here. He’ll be the one to push the button, and he’ll want an audience. Coco, the Council, they’ll be with him.”

“Makes sense,” Yang conceded, looking away.

“Hey,” Blake said, slowing to a walk and stepping closer as they passed into heavier foot traffic. “It’s going to be ok. I have a plan.”

Yang laughed. “You have a plan but no address.”

“So demanding,” Blake snarked, pulling out Beringer’s scroll and flipping through his recent calls. She chose a likely candidate and hit send, smiling when the man himself growled her name. Well, a name.

“Fiona.”

“Hey there, Lou,” she chirped. “I was hoping you’d be near your head of security. How’d you know it was me?”

“I figured you’d call eventually.”

”And I have.”

“What do you want?”

Blake pouted, pleased when she drew a silent laugh from Yang. “Oh Lou, can’t a girl just place a social call?”

“She can, but you’re not. Out with it.”

Blake smiled, but her tone was far from friendly. “I need one last favor.”

\--

“That’s the place?” Yang asked, peering around the corner of the building. The target in question was a relatively large warehouse in the middle tier, identical to many around it, and just down the street from where she and Blake were skulking in a narrow alley.

“That’s the address Hark zeroed in on. He said it was the most likely place for a White Fang hideout. I didn’t ask him to explain his reasoning but I trust him.”

Yang looked at the innocuous building again. There were a fair number of people meandering past in the noonday sun, but she was relatively sure that some of those who looked like they were simply loitering were a little too intentional about their positioning. “How are we going to get in?”

Blake followed her sightline, nodding when she saw two men leaning up against a signpost on the corner and watching passersby carefully. “Not past them. I had hoped to wait on Beringer…”

“Think he’ll come through?”

“If he doesn’t, I’ll tear his entire life down around him.”

“Yeah, but do you think he’ll come through?”

Blake grimaced. “Honestly? I’d say the odds are about fifty-fifty.”

“Not great.”

“No,” she agreed. “And not something we can wait on. We need to get inside, now, and we need to do it quietly.”

Yang shook her head. “Don’t look at me. Every toy I got from Aqua is loud.”

“Why am I not surprised?” Blake said, grinning. “Give me a sec. I’ll figure it out.”

Yang watched as her sharp eyes scanned the area, trying to see what she saw. To her, it just looked like a bunch of nondescript buildings. Not much in the way of places to hide, especially during the day, and plenty of places to get caught trying to go where they weren’t wanted. She had half a mind to suggest they bag the whole stealth thing and start chucking some of Aqua’s little goodies, but then that half-feral smile Yang loved was back on Blake’s face.

“Got it, follow me.” Yang couldn’t see what she had, but she didn’t get a chance to ask before Blake was circling the building they had been leaning on and looking up. She stopped under a raised fire escape. “Give me a boost?”

“Ok, but how does getting up here help us-?”

“You’ll see, come on.”

Yang sighed, then got in position under the fire escape, making a basket with her hands. “You know, this kind of reminds of our first date.”

Blake planted a light kiss on her lips as she stepped up and placed her foot in the waiting hands. “Me too. Who says romance is dead?”

“Get out of here,” Yang laughed, hoisting her up.

Blake scrambled onto the platform and slowly lowered the ladder so Yang could join her, then the pair quickly made their way to the flat roof. Blake extended an arm. “See?”

Yang looked. The rooftops were packed closely enough that even she could comfortably make her way across, and there was no sign of guards up top. “Fine, you were right.”

Blake leaned in and gave her another kiss, pulling back with an impish grin. “I know, but I love to hear you say it. Come on.” With that, she turned and loped off across the roof, easily hurdling the first gap. After admiring her for a moment, Yang followed, eying the drop warily but also clearing it with room to spare.

Luckily for them, the roofs were sturdily made, and their footsteps were muffled as they ran and leaped toward their destination. They arrived without incident, and Yang looked around. “Ok, now what?”

Rather than reply, Blake set about examining the numerous raised skylights clustered toward the center of the building. “Look, down there,” she whispered.

Yang joined her, thinking she hardly needed to be so quiet. There were people below, but the entire building was a single room, meaning those they saw were something like three stories below. Despite the skylights, the interior seemed dim, but she could make out several people milling around, holding what she assumed were guns. “Oh shit,” she hissed. It had taken a moment to pick them out from the shelves and barrels scattered around the space, but there were definitely figures on their knees, likely tied up from the awkward positioning of their limbs. Someone tall and lean was standing over them, and as he strode forward, a beam of light from above illuminated his white mask and shock of red hair. “Fuck,” Yang squeaked, stumbling back from the skylight and landing ungracefully on her butt. It was him. She had known he would be there, but something about seeing him again, so soon, it was too much. Her breath came rapidly, then hardly at all, her eyes wide and searching for a way out.

“Yang, breathe.”

The words floated down to her as though through a long tunnel. _Breathe? How?_

“I’m here. It’s ok.” She looked up, Blake’s face materializing as the world came back into focus. “It’s ok,” she repeated.

“I’m fi-“

“Yang.”

She breathed out, wiping her wet forehead. “I’m scared,” she amended.

“I know. Me too.”

“I don’t know if I can do it.”

Blake smiled, reaching out and holding Yang’s face, running a finger along her jaw. “You’re not alone, remember?”

Yang gazed up at her, struck by how calm she was, trying to drink some of it in. “Yeah,” she agreed, willing strength into her limbs.

“Now come on, I have an idea, but I need you to pull it off.”

“Yeah, I… yeah,” Yang took a few more breaths, finding a hint of a spark waiting to lend her strength. _You better be there when I need you_. The spark glowed just a bit hotter, and Yang climbed to her feet. Blake nodded, waving her over to the furthest skylight. As Yang joined her, she pulled off her small pack and started uncoiling a rope. “What exactly are you doing with that?”

One end of the long rope had an odd metal cylinder for a cap, and Blake started fiddling with it, then stuck it to the metal frame around the skylight with a light thunk. “Give it a tug.”

Yang reached out and pulled on the rope twice, then once more with a little more force. It didn’t budge. “Electromagnet?” Blake nodded. “Cool. Let me ask again: what are you doing with it?”

“I’m going to open this window, drop the rope in, and we’re going to slide down it.”

“What if we’re seen?”

“We’ll go fast.”

“What if the rope is seen just hanging here? Won’t they get suspicious?”

“That’s why I’m going to add a timer, five seconds after we drop-in, it’s going to detach.”

“Five seconds?” Yang hissed. “How are we-?”

“We,” Blake interrupted, smiling. “Aren’t. You’re going to hold me like the princess I am and lower us down.”

Yang flexed her right hand, doing some mental calculations. “Lower us? You mean put us in a barely controlled fall?”

Blake shrugged. “More or less. Ready?”

Yang never could say no when Blake started coming up with crazy plans. She supposed she should have learned at some point, but the woman’s confidence was contagious. She grinned. “This is insane. Let’s do it.”

Even though they were on the far side of the warehouse floor, they were as quiet as possible in removing the pane of yellowed glass, which they set aside gingerly. There was no way to replace it once they were in; they just had to hope it would go unnoticed. Next, Blake lowered the rope inside, grimacing when it didn’t quite reach the ground.

“How far a drop do you think there is at the end?” Yang whispered.

“No way to know.”

“Perfect.”

“We could always come up with something else…?”

Yang shook her head, grabbing the rope in her right hand and stepping up on the metal ledge. “We’ve come too far.” She held out her left arm.

Blake stepped up, snuggling up against her and holding on with her right hand, reaching for the end of the rope with her left. “Ready?”

Yang let herself feel the warmth of Blake’s lithe body, pressed up against her own, inhaled the heady scent emanating richly from her short hair. “Ready.”

“Go,” Blake hissed, pushing a button as Yang pulled them back over empty space.

For a breathless moment, they fell. The world was eerily silent save for the rush of air and the hiss of rope through mechanical fingers. Then those fingers started to close, slowing them ever so slightly as the hiss became a low whine. Yang glanced down, gritting her teeth as the ground approached, fast.

Too fast.

She gripped tighter, slowing them dramatically as they shot past the uppermost shelves lining the room. Blake clutched tight to her side, burying her face in her shoulder. Yang knew that Blake was counting on her, trusting her not to get them both killed. She wasn’t about to betray that trust. She gripped tighter still. It was going to be enough, the ground was close but they were slowing, it would work-

The rope ran out.

Yang barely bit back a curse as the end slipped through her fingers, not that she would have had time to let it out. In the tiniest fraction of a second after the rope left her grip, her feet hit the floor. Luckily, she’d had the presence of mind to bend her knees and overall was relieved with how light the landing had been.

A distant click sounded above, and before her addled mind could figure out what had caused it, the rope was piling up rapidly at her feet. She watched it dumbly for a moment until she heard her name whispered urgently in her ear.

“Yang!”

Her head snapped up in time to see a glinting cylinder plummeting toward her, and in a flash of yellow and black her hand snapped up, striking like a viper as it caught the cylinder with distinct _clack._

Blake looked at her, both of them holding their breath in the deafening silence that followed. Yang was about to declare that they were clear when a distant voice called out. “What was that?”

“Fuck,” Blake mouthed, gathering up the coil of rope and shoving it in her bag.

“Check it out.” Adam, there was no question about it. Yang felt a cold chill run down her spine but forced herself to focus on helping Blake. Fear could wait. First: survive.

Rope stowed, the duo crept out of the sunlight filtering down from above and into the shadowy corners of the otherwise unlit room. Whatever the warehouse had stored was long gone. All that remained were scattered barrels and crates lying open and empty amidst rows and rows of shelves covered in cobwebs and garbage. Periodically, there would be a rusted forklift or the remains of other, less obvious machinery that had been abandoned to the ravages of time. A few stained doors, some ajar, led off into side rooms, but with their goal so close, they weren’t about to go exploring. Instead, they stuck to the dark edges of the big main room.

They watched, hidden behind a collapsed shelf, as two armed men jogged down a nearby aisle, peering around in the gloom. After a minute of fruitless searching, they turned to go, but one stopped the other when he happened to look up. “Is there glass missing up there?”

“I don’t know, maybe?” the other replied. “Who cares? This place is a shit hole. It’s probably falling apart.”

“Yeah…I guess.”

“Come on.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming.”

With one last glance up at the skylight, the pair jogged off, no doubt to report the all-clear.

Blake looked at Yang, her golden eyes almost glowing in the near-dark. With a meaningful tilt of her head, she indicated they should move on, then crept off toward where they’d seen the hostages. Yang followed as quietly as she could, mystified, as always, by the completely silent form in front of her.

The perimeter of the warehouse was rife with discarded packaging, tools, and other detritus, all collecting dust. Yang soon found herself fighting the urge to sneeze rather than watching her footing, and was repeatedly brought up short by her wary partner before she could kick an empty box or step on a broken bottle and announce their presence. After the third time Blake stopped her and pointed out an obstacle practically underfoot, Yang started to think that maybe she had been right to leave her behind those times back in Vale when stealth was called for. Not that she’d ever admit it.

It took what felt like years, but gradually they made their way level with the group huddled around Adam’s angry voice. On one side were a dozen armed White Fang members. Their guns were down, at rest, but they were eying the bound and kneeling figures across from them hungrily. Despite their heads being covered in dark hoods, the expensive-looking suits on three of the figures marked them as the missing Councilmen. The last, slim figure bore a familiar delivery uniform that matched the ones Yang and Blake both had worn not too long ago.

Blake looked at her, lips tight, and the two nodded their mutual understanding before turning back to survey the scene. Yang fretted as she looked back and forth from the armed guards to the hostages, doing her best to avoid looking at the man pacing in their midst. Blake scarcely had eyes for anyone else. Yang fervently hoped there was a plan forming behind that furrowed brow because, to her, it looked all but hopeless.

If there was, she didn’t get a chance to find out. In the next breath, a nearby door banged open as two White Fang members came in, dragging a struggling man between them. Yang and Blake gaped in recognition.

“Unhand me this instant!” Councilman Oak shouted. “Who do you think you are? Where are…?” His question died on his lips as he saw the other hostages.

“Councilman Oak.” Adam threw his arms wide, greeting the man like an old friend. “How kind of you to joins us.”

“I don’t know who you are, young man, but what you’re doing is treason!”

Adam laughed, the sound cold and hard and not at all fitting as a mechanism for expressing mirth. “I think maybe you and I should have a conversation somewhere a bit more…private,” he leered.

Oak glared at Adam, but then he did something that didn’t fit his situation at all: he nodded. Yang blinked, then looked to the side to make sure she hadn’t imagined it. The grimace on Blake’s face confirmed it, and she turned back and watched as Oak made a show of struggling and protesting while he was dragged away toward the back of the warehouse, Adam strolling along behind like a man with nowhere important to be.

When they were obscured by a few rows of shelving, leaving only the hostages and handful of guards behind, Yang felt a tug on her sleeve. Her breath caught as Blake’s lips pressed close against her ear. “We should follow Adam and Oak,” she whispered, her breath tickling Yang’s scalp, making it extremely difficult to concentrate. “But…”

Yang understood her hesitation immediately. They needed to split up, but Blake was afraid to leave her alone. “You go,” she mouthed back. “I’ll deal with the guards and free the hostages.” She tried not to think about how impossible that would be and instead plastered on a cocky smile.

Blake could no doubt see right through it, but she needed to believe. “Are you sure?” she asked.

Before Yang could give herself away and admit that no, she wasn’t sure, she planted a firm kiss on Blake’s lips and nodded. Blake smiled.

Then she was gone.

Yang blinked her eyes, refocusing on the task at hand, but when she turned back to it, things looked every bit as impossible as they had a moment before, and now she was alone.

_Damn._


	39. Jammed

“Unhand me, you cretins.”

Blake watched through the cracked door as Oak shook off his supposed captors, secure now in the side room they’d chosen for their discussion. Adam hadn’t even bothered posting guards. Apparently, he assumed any potential threats were still outside.

Blake smiled to herself. Mistake number one. One of many, she hoped.

“You’ve got some nerve demanding I meet you here, especially after letting those miscreants get their hands on my daughter like you did.” Before Adam could respond, Oak continued, “Though I must say that your acquisition of the other Council members was nicely done.”

“I’m so glad you approve.” Blake twitched; Adam’s words were cold and flat. It was a tone she knew well, but judging by the smug smile on Oak’s face, it was one he had yet to decipher.

“I foresee our partnership paying many happy dividends going forward. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Adam turned his back on Oak and faced Blake. For a stomach-wrenching second, she thought he saw her, but then he smiled and reached into his jacket. “About that.” Before Oak could react, Adam had spun and leveled his gun while two of his men had forced the Councilman back to his knees. “I think this is where our partnership ends.”

But Oak wasn’t cowed. If anything, he looked more confident than ever on his knees with a gun in his face. “You backstabbing fool. I suppose I should have expected nothing less from an animal-“ Adam’s hand blurred, and Oak’s face swung to the side with the sound of a heavy impact. Blood dripped from his mouth, but he spat it out and smiled. “I’ll be the end of you and your little rise to power, boy. When the rest of the White Fang sees the footage of what you did to their dear High Leader, how long do you think you’ll maintain your position?”

Adam pulled back his hand again but hesitated. “You can’t send anything if you’re dead.”

“I can’t, you simpleton, but my assistant can.” He smiled, the blood in his teeth lending him a certain ghoulishness. “You thought you were so smart with your little threat to release the rest of the Council if I didn’t show, but did you really think I would come here without some insurance?”

“I think you’re bluffing.” Adam signaled his men, and they began rifling through Oak’s pockets. “I think you don’t trust anyone but yourself. I think a little birdie told me that you carry all of your secrets on you at all times.”

Oak’s smile widened. “Ah yes, little Rosemary. She was a clever plant. I almost didn’t notice she was a faunus or a spy before I hired her.”

Blake could see the muscles in Adam’s jaw clenching, even from behind. Meanwhile, she could barely suppress a grin. He’d miscalculated, and now she was watching him get outclassed in a game he thought he had already won.

Oak could see it too and seemed to be enjoying just as much, if not more. “Don’t feel bad, boy, it was a decent attempt; it was just obvious. Once she was hired and in place, I had an easy way to feed you whatever I wanted. You thought you were getting all my secrets, but all you learned was what I wanted you to learn.”

Adam began to pace, his gritted teeth and snorting breath doing a poor job of hiding his raging emotions. When he stopped suddenly, Blake feared he would lash out again, this time taking Oak’s life to vent his anger, but instead, he simply turned to glare down at him. Consider him. Then he looked at one of his men. “Find anything?”

“No, just his wallet. He didn’t even bring his scroll.”

“No scroll, eh?” Adam shook his head. “Can’t call for help, and no one knows exactly where you are. Bold move, Councilman. Dumb, but bold.”

“There’s a time limit-“

“Of course there is, but it isn’t measured in minutes,” Adam interrupted. Blake could hear the leering smile in his voice as he regained his footing. He turned to his men. “Tie him up and put him with the others, but don’t gag him. If he wants to tell his secrets to the rest of the Council, he’s welcome to.”

“Don’t be a fool!” Oak spat as Adam’s men hopped to their task. “What are you going to do without me? How will you start the war you so desperately crave? I doubt you’re on speaking terms with the Atlas Military!”

Adam knelt, drawing level with the furious Councilman and reaching into his pocket. He produced a small metal cylinder and dangled in front of Oak’s confused eyes. “Know what this is?”

“No, why would I?”

“This,” Adam said, tossing the device casually and snatching it out of the air with the same hand as he stood. “Is how I’m going to start the war. One little press and half of Mistral is wiped out, critical infrastructure damaged beyond repair. Tense as things are, Atlas will be the obvious one to blame. Oh, and I have the Council. No doubt, some ambitious fool will take up the mantle of leadership, but there will effectively be no government of Mistral. Not there will be much of a city left to govern. After that? Well, war should do a pretty good job of cleaning up what remains. No quick peace, no sudden rise to power for a certain Councilman who made deals with the other side. Just the end of Mistral as we know it.” Adam smiled. “Yes, I knew about your real plan. Rosemary wasn’t completely useless.”

Oak’s jaw dropped, and he began to struggle in earnest against his bonds. “You’re insane! You’ll destroy an entire kingdom, and for what?”

Adam stood, turning his back on the frothing Councilman. “To give humanity what it deserves.” He smiled then, a cold, dangerous smile that sent a chill down Blake’s spine as she slunk away to find a new hiding spot. “Take him away.”

She slipped behind some nearby crates just as the door swung open, and Oak was dragged out, bound and hooded like the others and struggling furiously against the strong hands holding him. Adam and another White Fang foot soldier followed shortly after, the latter tilting her head as she listened to her earpiece.

“High Leader,” she barked, straightening up.

He snapped his head around to look at her. “What?”

The woman swallowed, not enjoying the role of messenger. “We have a problem.”

Before Blake could enjoy the growing scowl on Adam’s face, her own radio came to life, startling her so badly she nearly let out a yelp and gave herself away.

“Uh, Blake? We have a problem.”

Blake felt a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, completely missing the terse exchange between Adam and his subordinate as they scurried back toward the front of the warehouse. If Aqua had a problem, things were about to go from bad to worse. Once she was alone, she took a quick breath and braced for bad news.

“What is it?”

\--

Yang stared at the group of armed terrorists. If there had been one or two, maybe three, she could have come up with something. But this? There were enough that she would be riddled with holes before she could even make it a step closer to the hostages. Unconsciously, she reached over with her now-cold right hand and steadied her trembling left as the remembered sound of gunfire filled her head and brought with it the echoes of pain and fear. She sat and trembled, biting her lip and waiting for the memories to lose their grip on her, hoping her shallow breathing didn’t make enough noise to catch someone’s attention.

The moment passed, and Yang’s body stilled along with her mind. She was afraid, but that was ok. She could still think, could still act. Worst case, she could wait, and Blake would come back and help her. She would.

Yang stopped hearing her own pulse in her ears and took a moment to reassess the situation. It didn’t look much better upon further study, but she refused to give up and wait to be rescued. Just as she was about to dig into her pockets for some of Aqua’s goodies, a cry went up from outside; clearly, the sentries out there saw something upsetting. Then she heard it.

A gunshot.

This one wasn’t in her head, though, and it wasn’t in the same room as her. It was outside, and soon it was joined by many others, with the spaces between filled by more shouts of alarm. The crew watching the prisoners looked at each other, muttering to themselves, then one of them put their hand to their ear.

“Say that again.” A moment of silence followed, then he turned to his comrades. “We’re under attack. They need reinforcements out there!” As one, they rushed for the door, and Yang’s hopes soared. She was about to be handed her objective on a silver platter. Then the man with the radio stopped. “Wait, the prisoners!” Maybe no silver platter after all. “Ochre, stay behind and watch them.”

“But-“

“Do it!” Then the rest continued their rush for the door, leaving a lone figure behind to sulk and watch the bound prisoners. 

Yang frowned but had to grant that one was far more manageable. She began thinking of a way to draw him off, preferably without making any noise. Her thoughts were interrupted by Aqua’s urgent call over the radio.

“Uh, Blake? We have a problem.”

Yang froze, waiting what felt like far too long for the response. Finally, several dreadful heartbeats later, it came in a clipped whisper. “What is it?”

“The last bomb, it’s…different.”

“Different how?”

“Bigger, for one thing. But it’s also fitted with a case that might take hours to get off, especially if I move carefully enough to not, you know, blow myself up. Any chance you’ve found the detonator?”

“I’ve…” Blake’s voice trailed off. “I’ve seen it.” Yang could hear the rest in her tone: Adam had it.

“If they set off this bomb…”

“I know,” Blake cut in. “What should we do?”

“That depends. Yang, any chance you grabbed that jammer?”

Yang rifled through her pockets, coming up with the device after several terrifying false starts. “Yeah,” she whispered. “I’ve got it.”

“Good. That should buy us time as long as you can stay close to the detonator, but you’ll be cut off from communication once it’s activated.”

“How close?” Yang asked, looking at the device.

“Uh…” Aqua trailed off, sounding distracted. Probably by the bomb sitting in front of her. “I don’t exactly have the spec sheet in front of me. If you’re in the same building, that should work.”

“Ok.”

Blake’s voice filled her ears again. “We can’t guarantee that it will stay jammed for hours. Tell me there’s another plan.”

“Well…”

“There is,” Carmina cut in, her pilot’s voice a little less cool than usual over the radio. “I’m the plan. I’m circling down now. I’ll get the bomb away from the city and dump it somewhere safe.”

“Mina-“ Blake began to protest, but was immediately cut off.

“I’m not asking permission. I’m just telling you how it is.” The pilot cut in.

“Ok,” Blake whispered. “Get rid of it as soon as you can.”

“I will. You focus on Coco. Did you find her?”

“We did,” Blake responded. “We’ll be sure to bring her back safely.”

Carmina’s started to say something, then cleared her throat. “See that you do.”

“We will. I promise. Yang?”

“Yeah?” she mouthed, heart racing with anticipation.

“Are you ready to jam the signal?”

“Yeah.”

She heard Blake take a deep breath, no doubt feeling the same nerves as Yang over being cut off from any form of backup. “Do it.” Yang activated the small device, and her earpiece went silent.

But the world around her did not.

“What’s going on?” Her heart froze at the boom of the familiar voice. Adam had returned, bringing more White Fang members and a bound and hooded Oak with him.

“H-high Leader!” stammered the remaining guard, Ochre. “We’re under attack and-“

“I know that, fool. Where are the others?”

“They went outside to help-“

“And left the prisoners unguarded?”

Ochre deflated. “I’m still here, sir.”

“Forgive me if I’m unimpressed.” Adam sneered. “Get more men back in here.”

“Yes, sir!” Ochre snapped a salute and reached up to his earpiece, muttering a request. His eyes narrowed in confusion, and he repeated it. With a heavy swallow, he looked up at Adam. “It uh…it seems my radio is dead, sir.”

Adam stepped up to the man, their chests nearly touching as he looked down at the cowering soldier. “What did you say?” he asked through gritted teeth.

“My radio…sir-“

“Mine’s dead too,” reported one of Adam’s posse.

“What?” he snapped.

“Mine too,” said one of the burly men who had just finished depositing Oak with the other hostages.

Adam looked around at his men, his jaw flexing so mightily Yang was surprised she couldn’t hear his teeth cracking. “We’re under attack, and our radios are jammed?” he asked no one in particular.

Everyone looked at one woman, apparently his second in command. “It seems so, sir,” she confirmed, squaring her shoulders against an anticipated onslaught of fury.

But it didn’t come, not right away. Instead, Adam reached in his pocket and pulled out what Yang could only assume was the detonator, and after a moment’s consideration, flipped the cap on the top.

“Sir, it’s not time-!”

Adam jammed his thumb down on the exposed button, silencing his lieutenant. Everyone flinched, bracing for an explosion that didn’t come. The only sounds were the continued gunfire and shouts of battle outside. Inside, everything was still. Adam snarled and hit the button several more times, but still there was nothing.

“Sir-“

“Quiet,” he growled, sweeping the room with his masked gaze. “There’s someone in here.”

Yang covered her mouth, trying desperately to silence her panicked gasps for air. If only her lungs would work, if only her heart would stop pounding so loudly, maybe he wouldn’t find her…

_No._

Yang stilled herself, watching. He was just guessing. He hadn’t heard her. Still, she had to fight the urge to gasp when he reached into his jacket again and produced the gun that had haunted her dreams for months; the same gun that had nearly killed her sister. How she hated that gun.

Adam's masked face continued to sweep back and forth, the gun trailing lazily behind. After a moment, his finger twitched, and he fired a shot into a pile of crates across from Yang. Everyone cowered at the sudden noise, the hostages most of all given they couldn’t even see what was happening or who was shooting at what.

“Come out!” he demanded. “I know you’re here.”

A bead of cold sweat traced it’s way down Yang’s temple as she watched him level his gun at another innocent pile of debris and open fire. She was completely frozen, watching helplessly as he took potshots at every potential hiding place in sight.

“Hiding won’t save you.”

It was only a matter of time before he leveled his weapon at her, but what could she do? If she revealed herself, she’d likely be shot anyway, and at least hiding gave Carmina and the others a chance to dispose of the bomb. Her teeth dug painfully into her lip as she watched him lower his gun directly at her. She buried the jammer deep in her pocket, morbidly hoping it would take them a while to find it. _Some plan_ , she thought, but it was all she had. She tried to curl up behind her plated arm, but it could only cover so much, and she could only get so lucky. At least she would die buying time for the others. It was just too bad she couldn’t see Blake, just once more. She closed her eyes, focusing on golden eyes and obsidian hair rather than the cold metal barrel staring at her now. The sharp cheekbones over crimson lips, so clever and pert and kissable. Not a bad final image-

“Adam!”

Yang’s eyes flew open. Had she imagined that? No, Adam had heard it as well and turned his gaze up and away toward the top of a high shelf. There, perched amongst the boxes and cobwebs and wreathed in dingy, yellow light was Blake. Her lips were pulled back in a snarl, her eyes narrow and fierce as she looked down at the men below.

“You,” Adam said, uttering the syllable like a curse. “You’re doing this.”

“Come and get me,” she taunted. Before Adam could even draw a bead on her, she was gone, vanished in a swirl of dust.

Adam roared his frustration, turning to his men. “Stay here and guard the prisoners,” he barked. “I’ll take care of our guest.”

“But sir-“ his second protested.

“That’s an order!” He glared at her, daring her to speak up again. When she didn’t, he held out his hand. “Give me your earpiece. I need to know when we have a signal again.”

“Yes, sir,” she replied immediately, handing over the device.

Fitting it in place, he moved off in the direction Blake had disappeared. “I’ll be back soon,” he declared.

Yang’s mind raced. She was still coming to terms with the fact that she wasn’t dead, but she had a job to do. Most of her ached to go after Blake, to help her, but she couldn’t simply leave the hostages. To make matters worse, she wasn’t sure she could even leave her hiding spot without drawing someone’s attention, so a stealthy pursuit was out of the question. At least until she dealt with the leftovers.

Four, only four. Hadn’t she just thought she could handle three? Four wasn’t that much worse, right?

But Blake…

 _Focus._ She forced her mind to the task at hand and reached into her jacket. No comms, the sounds of battle outside, and Adam was gone. She didn’t have to be quiet anymore. She just needed to disarm her opponents before they could riddle her with bullets.

Easy.

Yang searched through her pockets, pulling out and returning devices as she recalled what each did. Smoke and flashbang pellets both tempted her, but she worried that they would do more harm than good. If she was blinded or disoriented, she wouldn’t be able to take down three people with guns, and if they were disoriented, they might start shooting, and she or a hostage might get tagged. Reluctantly she returned the small spheres to her pocket and pulled out something far less potent.

She allowed herself a moment of stillness. She closed her eyes, envisioning her attack as she reached within herself for the flame of the Dragon. What she found wasn’t quite the raging fire she might have hoped for, but when she touched it, warm confidence flowed through her limbs, pushing away her doubts. Air rushed through her nose, deep into her expanding lungs. It was time. She opened her eyes and rose, sweeping her arm in a wide arc and dispersing the contents of her hand at the feet of the White Fang soldiers. As soon as the pellets hit the ground, they began to explode and pop; little more than firecrackers yet plenty effective at startling and drawing the attention of the unsuspecting guards. They were so busy staring at the exploding ground that they never noticed the blur of brown and gold rushing at them from a darkened corner.

A lunging left dropped her first target while he was still looking at his feet. The sound of his body hitting the ground alerted the others to the enemy in their midst, but she was flowing into her next attack before they could raise their weapons. Yang dropped her second opponent with a casual flick of her right hand, bordering on lazy, and swept into an uppercut that landed square on the chin of the third. But there her luck ran out. The slumping body of her last target fell toward the only woman standing, tripping her up and sending her falling backward and out of Yang’s reach. Worse, the woman managed to turn her fall into a controlled roll, coming up to her feet with her short rifle aimed squarely at Yang’s chest in one smooth motion.

“Freeze!” she barked.

Yang snarled but did as she was ordered, holding fast in the crouch that was intended to launch her at her prey. The Dragon raged within her as she cast about for options, quickly realizing she may have finally written a check that even her ass couldn’t cash.

“On your knees!” the woman shouted, gesturing toward the ground with the barrel of her weapon. When Yang didn’t immediately comply, she repeated herself. “I said on your-!”

“Heads up!”

Yang and the woman looked up, as one, toward the unexpected voice. Before the White Fang lieutenant could even assess the new threat, she was hit squarely in the face with a banana peel. The sheer insanity of the sight of an armed soldier scrunching up her face in disgust as she released her grip on her gun to remove the offending refuse was too much, and Yang snorted a laugh. Her chuckle was quickly cut off, however, when the banana peel was followed by a gracefully flipping Sun.

She had no idea where he had come from, but it was clear where he was going. Everything seemed to slow down as he untucked his legs, his feet landing squarely in the center of the chest of the dumbfounded woman who only realized what was happening a bare instant before she was driven from her feet and onto her back. Sun’s momentum carried him past the already unconscious woman, and he began to tuck into what undoubtedly would have been a smooth tumble, had he not still been injured. Instead, his body jerked suddenly as he cried out in pain, and the tumble became an ugly, bouncing crash.

Yang shook her head to convince herself that she wasn’t hallucinating and rushed over to where Sun was groaning on the ground. “Fuck, dude,” she said, holding out her hand to help him up. “That was insane!”

He accepted her help, holding his side and groaning as she hauled him to his feet. “You know me; I like to make an entrance.” Once he was upright, he smiled, but his shallow breath and sheen of sweat gave him away.

“I’ll say. How did you even get here?”

“Came as soon as I could,” Sun explained between pained breaths. “Aqua didn’t need me, and I figured you two might need backup.”

“Well, you saved my ass, so thanks,” Yang replied. “But I think you might need to sit down for a bit.”

He waved her off. “No, no, I’m good. I’m just tired from sprinting across rooftops and drop-kicking a lady from the second story. Where’s Blake?”

Yang looked at his reddening side where he was visibly bleeding through his bandages, but decided not to point it out. She figured he knew. “She drew Adam off. I need to get to her-” _Without you slowing me down_ , she withheld, casting about for an excuse. “But someone needs to secure the hostages-“

“F-freeze!” Yang blew out a breath through her nostrils when she recognized the voice of the poor fool who’d been left behind. Ochre, was it? Apparently, she hadn’t hit him as hard as she thought.

“Listen, kid,” she said over her shoulder. “I don’t have time for this. If you drop your weapon-“ Yang broke off as she heard a clattering sound. Turning with a smile, she went on, “See, now…what the fuck?”

“Hello to you too,” replied Coco, tossing aside the plank of wood she’d used to knock out the poor sop at her feet. “You should really work on watching your back.” She looked over Yang’s shoulder. “That goes double for you, Sun.”

“Sorry, boss.” Sun stepped forward, grinning sheepishly and holding his side. “You look like shit, by the way.”

Coco reached up and gingerly prodded her blackened eye, still swollen shut, and rubbed at the grime and dried blood on her face, but offered a saucy grin nonetheless. “Sorry that I’m not up to your standards; I didn’t exactly have a chance to freshen up. I’m fine, though.” As though to prove her point, her legs chose that moment to buckle, and she barely managed to land on one knee rather than falling all the way to the floor. Yang rushed forward to help her up, beating Sun to the punch by virtue of the fact that he couldn’t rush anywhere. Coco thanked her and looked at the grimace on Sun’s face. “You don’t exactly look all that good yourself,” she pointed out.

Yang grew impatient. “Can the two of you hold it together long enough to defend the hostages? I need to go help Blake.”

Coco nodded at the ground. “Hand me that gun.” Yang complied, noting how Coco examined it with an expert eye before flicking the safety on and off and cocking it experimentally. “We’ll be fine. Go get your girl.”

“Uh, boss?” Sun interjected. “The Death’s Messengers are kind of laying siege to this place. I’m not sure how long-“

“Don’t worry,” Yang assured him. “They’re here to help.”

Sun and Coco gaped at her. “Are you sure?” he asked.

Yang shrugged, already breaking into a trot toward the back of the warehouse. “Pretty sure.”

“Did she just say, ‘pretty sure’?” Sun asked as he watched her go.

“Yup, that’s what she said.”

“Cool, cool. Yeah, no that’s fine.”

Yang heard Coco chuckle. “Quit bellyaching and untie the others. We need to be ready to move.”

“You got it, boss.”

Their voices faded out as Yang picked up speed, racing through the shelves toward where she thought she’d heard more gunshots. She tried not to think about the last time she’d rushed to Blake’s side, forcing images of blood and pain and fear from her mind. Instead, she let herself remember the feeling of flying. The sensation of freedom and power and motion flowed through her mind, and she willed it into her limbs.

_Hold on, Blake. I’m coming._


	40. Together

Blake’s legs coiled and fired, launching her across the gap between shelves in a graceful arc. She landed in near silence and without breaking stride, hurtling for the next row. Only a few months ago, such maneuvers would have left her panting for breath, muscles burning, but her restless nights spent running the rooftops were paying off. With adrenaline pumping through her veins, her body was moving like a well-oiled machine, and she intended to push it to its limit.

_BANG_

She flinched as a gunshot sounded behind her, shuddering as the errant slug hit the metal beneath her feet, sending vibrations up through the soles of her boots and tingling up her legs. Adam was having no trouble keeping pace with her, of course; he had always been so fast, so agile. For years she had trained simply by chasing him, which didn’t give her a great feeling about their positions being reversed.

“Can you do anything but run?” he called out in challenge. “Though I suppose this cowardice is how you escaped my little surprise. Too bad you only managed to postpone the inevitable.”

Blake didn’t respond. She was too focused on her next leap, drawing him further from Yang. It wasn’t just that she needed to protect her; she needed to buy time. Time for her to free the others, time to get them out. Time for Carmina to dispose of the bomb. Time for her team to save the day.

Time. She needed time.

Or so she thought.

Time ended up not being her true enemy; instead, it was space. Specifically, distance. Once she realized her mistake, it was too late, and her radio was crackling to life.

“-be high enough, just need to get out over empty land so Aqua can dump it.”

Blake’s breath caught in her throat. Was that Carmina?

“Sounds good. Hark said there should be a good spot a few clicks south-“

“Yatsu?!” Blake cried.

His reply was confused. “Blake?”

Everything slammed home for her. The signal jammer, Aqua must have overestimated its limited range, and Blake had run beyond it. That meant…

“Carmina! You’re out of time, you need to dump the bomb now!” she hissed.

“I…what? Blake? Why can we hear you?”

“There’s no time, you need to-!”

Blake never finished her sentence. She had stopped watching her footing, and in a sickening lurch, a rotten board that she’d tried to push off gave way. She fell in a heap, bouncing bodily off shelves as she came crashing down to the ground, each plank and beam striking her defenseless body like a hammer. She tried to regain her feet, struggling through the pain, gasping and spitting blood that she hoped was from a superficial wound but feared was not. Before she made it past her knees, a strong hand closed around her throat, lifting her up until she was dangling inches from Adam’s masked face.

“Did I hear that right? Signals are getting through again?” he sneered. He paused and seemed to listen to something else; Blake could vaguely make out the sound of radio chatter coming from his ear and felt her heart drop when his smile widened. “Perfect,” he said, holstering his gun and reaching into his pocket. “I’d say that I hope you’ve said your goodbyes, but I don’t care.”

Blake watched him flick open the detonator, fighting for air. “Mina,” she rasped. “Get-“

He pressed the button.

For a single peaceful moment, Blake let herself believe it hadn’t worked. Then the silence was shattered by a distant rumble and a flash of light from above. Blake looked up, tears welling in her eyes, and watched as a flaming sphere bloomed and faded out in the sky far above Mistral. She was too distraught to truly register the look of rage building on Adam’s face or make sense of the panicked chatter on her radio.

“You…” he whispered, leaning in close and gritting his teeth. “What have you done?!” With that, he flung her into a nearby shelf, roaring his fury as she cried out in pain. She gritted her teeth and reached for a shelf, pushing through the agony that was lancing through every inch of her body as she hauled herself up. She almost made it to her knees before she felt a boot dig into her ribs, forcing a grunt through her lips as her lungs expelled what breath they had left. “This city should be burning right now! Why did you have to ruin this, just like you ruin everything?!”  
Blake heaved for air, forcing her burning lungs to reopen. She knew she should fight, but part of her just wanted to lay down and die. To join those she had gotten killed. Carmina, probably Aqua as well. Who else would die because of her?

_No._

Blake shook her head, unfamiliar with the small, steady voice ringing in the back of her mind, but sure she couldn’t ignore it. That blood was on Adam’s hands, along with all the rest, and laying down and accepting death wasn’t a fitting way to honor two of the bravest people she knew. With every bit of defiance left in her battered body, she fought to push herself up. “Ruin?” she demanded, forcing herself up onto her elbows. “I’m stopping the senseless murder of hundreds, maybe thousands. How is that ruining anything?”

Adam kicked her again, sending her tumbling across the dirty floor, but when he spoke, his voice sounded calm, cold. It was that tone, the one she knew so well, and though she told herself she wasn’t the same scared little girl who used to cower from it, she couldn’t completely contain her terror. “Senseless?” he asked. “Senseless? Blake, have you really drifted so far from the cause of the faunus that you don’t remember what we’re fighting for? I didn’t realize you had abandoned our people when you abandoned me.”

Blake began to reply, but a sudden silence in her ear distracted her. She hadn’t been listening to the rapid voices on her radio, but their absence hit her like a spray of cold water, shocking her to clarity.

The jammer was back in range.

Closing her eyes for a moment, she focused on the sounds in the warehouse around her. Stray gunfire was still echoing outside, though that seemed to be subsiding. Something, likely a rat, was rummaging through a pile of rubbish nearby. Blake swiveled her ears and concentrated. Then she heard it: the sound of swift but light footsteps, of someone approaching, quickly and quietly.

“Are you even listening to me, Blake?” Adam leered, kicking her again. “Or are you too busy thinking about your dead friends? Was Yang on that ship? I hope so. I hope you can know the pain of having someone you love torn from your life. Then maybe you’ll understand what you did to me.”

“I…what?” Blake asked, uncurling and rising again to look up at him. “What are you talking about?”

“People hurt me long before you, Blake. All kinds of people, in all kinds of ways.” As he spoke, he reached up, undoing the clasps of his mask. Blake knew full well what waited beneath, but as he removed it, she still felt the familiar ache of undeserved guilt and shame he’d somehow transferred to her as she looked upon the evidence of the wrong that had been done to him. “But no one hurt me quite like you. You didn’t leave scars, you just left me alone.”

Blake looked away. She wasn’t the one who’d branded his face. Some terrible bigot at Schnee Dust Company had done that in an attempt to prove to him that he wasn’t a person; that he was no more than company property. Livestock. That man soon found his way to a shallow grave, but that hadn’t sated Adam’s lust for vengeance or his need to blame someone for his pain. So while he wasn’t out killing humans, he was back at camp, showing Blake his branded eye with those terrible letters, SDC, convincing her that his pain was somehow her fault.

But it wasn’t. It never had been.

Blake looked up, taking in the scarred face of a man who she now knew she could pity without guilt or shame. It was terrible what had happened to him, what had happened to so many. But it wasn’t her fault. Neither was the supposed pain she’d caused him by leaving. It was her life, no one else’s. She had chosen to leave because she didn’t want to be part of his endless war against humanity. If he was lonely, that was his problem.

Adam drew his gun. “So, tell me, Blake. How does it feel, to be alone?”

Blake hauled herself to her knees, every fiber of her being protesting the motion, and snarled a smile up at him. “I’m not alone.”

Adam glared down at her, and she watched her words sink in, his eyes widening. The shelf behind him let out an ominous creak as a golden ball of fury used it to launch herself into the air. He spun just in time to take the impact of her shoulder on his chest, the force of her flying body driving him to the ground. As his back struck the concrete, his breath exploded through his lips, loosening his fingers enough that his gun was sent skittering across the floor as he bounced and skidded to a stop.

Blake looked from his prone form to Yang, standing imposingly some feet away from him after rolling easily to her feet. Her face softened when she saw Blake struggling to stand, and she rushed over to help her up. “You ok?” she asked.

“No,” Blake replied, grimacing as she was pulled to her feet. “But I’m better now that you’re here.”

“Flirt…while you can,” Adam gasped, rising and drawing his knife. “It’s your last chance!” The words had hardly left his lips before he rushed forward in a blur, slashing furiously and driving them apart. He stood between them, his knife swinging rapidly back and forth as he sized them up.

Yang raised her hands, a familiar look in her eyes. A dangerous look. Blake was heartened to see it, but far from confident, given what she knew about their opponent. “Give it up, Adam. It’s over,” the Dragon proclaimed.

He sneered. “It’ll be over when you two lovebirds are dead at my feet!”

\--

Yang reacted before he started moving. Otherwise, she never would have caught him. He was unbelievably fast, but anticipation can make up for a lot. His first step was blindingly quick, but she was already lunging. His hands blurred as he flipped his grip on the knife and raised it overhead, but she was already reaching. He drove the curved tip down toward Blake’s face, and she raised her hands. Too little, too late.

But Yang was already there.

She barely registered the pressure of his wrist slamming into the palm of her outstretched arm, but she grinned as the knife jolted to a halt, inches above Blake’s head. Her sense of touch was numb, and she failed to catch hold of him when she closed her hand, diving to the side on instinct as he turned and slashed at her face, roaring his fury. His blade sang through empty space, and as she regained her feet, he was already rushing her, his blade glinting in the broken beams of light strewn through the air.

Blake struck him from behind with a swift kick to the ribs, turning his charge into a stumble. Yang looked at her as she settled into a fighter's stance, and for a moment, their eyes met. In that instant, something passed between them, something like a memory. It was the look of two longtime dance partners as they found their rhythm at the beginning of an oft-practiced routine, the synchronicity of two bodies moving with a single purpose.

As one, they pounced, charging Adam from opposite sides. Seeing the high kick that Blake was flowing into before it came to be, Yang hurled a devastating overhand right at Adam’s knee. Either she would break it or draw his attention, either would work. As she expected, he was watching her right closely, and moved his leg immediately. Her swing missed, and her fist drove into the concrete below in a shower of splintering stone. She looked up as he somehow diverted Blake’s strike away with his free hand at the same time, turning his momentum into an immediate counterstrike with his glinting knife.

Yang dragged her knuckles from the crumbling concrete and pushed upward, launching a left uppercut at his solar plexus. Her attack was coming from so low that he actually pivoted and blocked it with his shin, flinching as brass knuckles bit into the bone. He looked down and didn’t see Blake pivot, didn’t see her knee come up to land squarely in the space between his ribs and hips, driving him to the side.

Yang smiled up at her, then hopped to her feet. They faced him, side-by-side now, and it all felt disturbingly familiar. Yang had known Blake could fight, but she’d never really seen it. Yet somehow, someway, she felt like she knew her every move, could anticipate her strikes and feints. Yang wasn’t one to believe in things she couldn’t see, but she felt the echos of another version of Blake; one that was so similar but that she knew in a completely different way.

Yang’s body surged into motion, moving of its own accord while her baffled mind shook off the strange deja-vu. Whatever the source of the feeling, it didn’t matter. Blake was beside her; all was right with the world. They flowed forward, two halves of a stream splitting around a particularly stubborn and unyielding stone. Their attacks came in rapid succession but were never rushed. A river is not in a hurry. Whether its waters trickle or roil, it simply moves. The wind doesn't struggle or exert itself as it blows across the planes, though sometimes it seems to meander while others it charges forth with enough fury to tear trees up from their roots. It just is. So their attacks came: ceaselessly, relentlessly, effortlessly. Between them, Adam moved in a frantic blur, his breath coming in snorting gasps as he pushed himself to meet and turn away every attack, harrying them with his knife whenever he could to gain himself enough space to regroup.

Yang knew the look on his face, though, and she smiled ferociously as she watched the desperate man run out of time. He was using far too much energy to fend them off, and he knew it. It wasn’t a question of if he would falter, but when. Yang knew how much was left in her tank, and it was plenty.

Blake stumbled.

Yang spared her a glance and realized she had made a grave error. Adam was running out of gas, it was true, but Blake was fighting hurt, and she was reaching her limit first. Fighting through pain was exhausting, but Yang had been too caught up in the thrill of combat to take that into consideration.

Seeing her weakness, Adam struck.

It was pure, dumb luck that he was already slashing downward at Yang. Otherwise, things would have gone far worse. As it was, he landed a vicious backhand on Blake’s temple that sent her sprawling.

“Blake!” Yang cried, watching her partner struggle and fail to rise, completely ignoring Adam as he dove away, searching for something. The sound of metal scraping on concrete grabbed her attention, and she turned and saw him climbing to his feet, gun in hand.

Still facing away, he addressed her. “Moment of truth, Yang. Do you think you’re faster than you were at Beacon?”

Yang gritted her teeth but couldn’t stop her body from trembling as the memory of the terrible night washed over her. The night she learned that she was not, in fact, invincible. The night she learned what real pain was. The night she lost everything.

Before he turned, she dove away, seeking refuge in the maze of shelves just as a shot rang out, the bullet no doubt passing right through where she’d been standing a moment before. Adam laughed, cold and certain of his victory. “Me neither.”

\--

It was over. Adam knew it, and he was pretty sure the pathetic wretches he was about to put down knew it too. He looked down at the limp form of his former love. Blake seemed to be out cold. If not, she was dazed enough as to make no difference, so he decided to save her for later. Once he had made quick work of his…replacement, he would come back and take his time. Blake needed to see the error of her ways. She needed to know how wrong she had been. She needed to suffer.

He stalked forward, peering around the corner of the first row of shelves. Empty. “There’s no use hiding,” he called. “I’m going to find you eventually.” He snapped around the next shelf and rounded on the second row. Empty. Then the third. Then the fourth.

As the rows passed, his patience ran out. “If you’re just going to run, you coward, I guess I have no choice but to go back and attend to Blake. If you hurry, maybe you can watch her die.” In a few quick strides, he returned to where he’d left her.

Or at least, where he thought he’d left her.

Adam swung his head around, looking at the open space where only a moment before Blake had lain, beaten and unconscious. He could see the scattered debris of their fight, see the crack in the ground where that filthy human had landed what she’d clearly hoped to be a fight-ending punch on the floor. But there was no sign of Blake.

Then he heard a strange skittering sound. Looking down, he saw a handful of small metal balls rolling toward his feet. As he tried to puzzle out what they could be, they began popping, one by one, then releasing thick clouds of white smoke with an urgent hiss.

He leveled his gun and stepped back, but the cloud enveloped him. A shadow and a swirl from his left drew his eye, and he turned and fired, but the sound of metal ricocheting on metal told him that he had hit nothing. He spun and shot at a swirl to his right, with the same result. Adam bared his teeth, backing up a few steps. For a paralyzing moment, he wasn’t sure what to do. He considered running, but pride and a suspicion that he was expected to do just that forced him to hold his ground. Instead, he ignored his eyes and listened.

He knew his hearing was nothing like Blake’s. In fact, it was likely no better than a human's, but something was better than nothing. The small gas pellets at his feet had exhausted themselves, so their hissing no longer filled his ears. In the silence, he could hear…yes. There, somewhere beyond the smoke, was the sound of footsteps. He aimed at where he thought the clumsy oaf must be standing and pulled the trigger.

His gun made an odd, muffled sound. Then he heard something that made his blood run cold: a metal slug, clattering to the ground at this feet. He looked down, and at the end of the gun barrel was a ghostly hand, yellow and black and terrible and holding the slide of the gun so that it couldn’t fire another impotent shot even if he’d tried. He raised his head and saw her leering up at him, the odd light filtering through the fog lending her eyes an eerie red glow as she crowed her triumph.

“Gotcha.”

\--

Yang closed her fist, thrilling as she felt and heard the barrel twist and bend beyond any form of usability. The gun that had haunted her dreams, almost as much as Adam himself, gone. Broken and ruined and useless; crushed in the hand she’d built to replace the one it had taken. It felt right.

It felt good.

It felt like he was still holding on to the worthless scrap of metal. Yang grinned and stepped back, widening her stance. With a savage jerk, she yanked him off balance, leading him by the gun he couldn’t bring himself to release. She pulled back her left, balling her hand into a fist. Without prompting or digging or cajoling, the flame of the Dragon rushed through her veins, setting every nerve and muscle alight.

Fighters train for years to teach their bodies how to move. Strength and ferocity mean nothing if you don’t know how to use them. Yang had been blessed with an abundance of both, but what made her truly dangerous were the many hours she had spent honing her body into an efficient force-delivery machine. In a typical fight, she had to use this ability to deliver compact, quick strikes to avoid leaving herself open to counters. But this was different. Adam was open and off-balance and confused; he may as well have been a heavy bag. In pulling him around and down, she had given herself space to fully coil her body: legs, hips, torso, shoulders, all of it twisted into a position she could never use in the ring.

But every fighter likes to see how hard they can punch, from time to time. When they get the chance.

With a savage grunt, Yang unleashed. First her feet, then her legs, then her hips snapping around to face him. All the while, her upper body held back, her spine and abs complaining as they twisted and stretched, finally reaching their limit and slingshotting her shoulders around in a tight circle. All of that force combined to launch her fist into a carefully calculated orbit that landed it neatly below Adam’s ribcage, bending him double before sending him careening backward and out of the dissipating smoke, his arms windmilling helplessly as he barreled through a pile of empty crates.

Yang strode after him, enjoying the look of fear on his face as she broke through the mist. She watched him climb to his feet, shaky but managing. “I may not be faster,” she said, looking down at the crumpled mess of metal in her hand before tossing it aside like so much trash. “But I’m smarter.”

Blake appeared at her side, stiff and lightly swaying but preparing to fight as Adam struggled to his feet. Before she could charge in, Yang held out a hand. Blake looked up at her, confused, but Yang just smiled and shrugged. “Liver shot,” she explained. “Always takes a second to set in.”

\--

Blake turned just in time to watch Adam collapse to his knees with a grunt. His eyes were still open, and while she was tempted to knock him out while he was helpless, another thought occurred to her. She murmured in Yang’s ear, receiving a quick nod in return, and approached him.

“Hurts, doesn’t it?” she asked, reaching down and tilting his chin up so he was facing her. She watched dispassionately as he grimaced in pain, his breath coming in grunting gasps as he clutched at his torso. “It might be a minute until you can really talk again, but I’ll wait.”

“Just…” Adam panted, gritting his teeth through the pain. “Kill…me.”

“Kill you?” Blake asked, shaking her head sadly. “You mean like you killed Sienna?”

Adam’s lipped curled. “Yes.”

“How could you?” Blake demanded, the pain in her voice very real. “She was your leader, your mentor. I heard you call her a friend more than once.”

“She was standing in the way!” Adam grunted.

“In the way of what?”

“Justice.”

“Justice, or vengeance?” Blake demanded.

Adam spat, his saliva bloody as it landed at Blake’s feet. “Same thing,” he rasped. “The humans need to…to pay for what they’ve done.” He took a few ragged breaths, his words coming faster. “I will do whatever it takes, eliminate any who stand in my way, to see that they do.”

“So you’ll team up with mobsters, with humans like Oak, just get your way.”

“Whatever it takes. That fool of a human was useful. He offered me more resources than Beringer was willing to part with. Resources I needed to turn some of Sienna’s closest supporters, to plant the seeds for the downfall of Mistral. It was all going to be perfect.” Blake took a step away as he tried to rise, only to fall back to one knee. He stared daggers at her from the ground. “Until you came along and ruined it. So just finish it. Kill me, you’ve already taken everything.”

Blake smiled, but there was little warmth or kindness in it for the man before her. It was tempting, if she was honest, to take his life, but she put that thought aside. “Not everything, not yet. Yatsu?” When the familiar voice came back over the radio she asked, “Did you get all that? Yeah? Great. The stuff with Oak from earlier too?” She looked down at Adam, her smile widening as she saw his jaw drop. “Good. Compile it, give it Hark, make sure he distributes it to the interested parties.”

“What have you done?” Adam whispered.

“Me?” Blake asked, the picture of innocence. “I haven’t done anything. You, on the other hand?” she tutted. “You just confessed to working with a human to kill the former High Leader. Something tells me the White Fang won’t be thrilled to hear that.” Blake drank in the look of horror on his face. Years of enduring psychological torment, of doing anything for his approval, for his love, only to be shot down and torn apart, again and again. She couldn’t remember the number of times she’d been left sobbing and alone after he told her she wasn’t enough, that she was to blame for his failing, that somehow everything was her fault; until he didn’t even need to say it anymore; until she would say it to herself. Now he knelt before her, defeated not by some cruelty she had cooked up, but by the truth of his own actions being revealed to the world. Finally, everyone would know what it had taken Blake years of torture to realize for herself: Adam was a monster. It didn’t make up for everything, didn’t bring back the time he’d stolen from her, or the lives he’d taken from so many others. It wouldn’t bring back Aqua and Carmina.

But it was something.

“You…” he growled, fighting his way to his feet. “I’ll kill you!”

\--

Yang stepped forward. While he’d been down, she had hung back, letting Blake have the moment of retribution that she so desperately deserved. But now he was standing, for real this time, and she knew better than think he wasn’t a threat. Blake acknowledged her with the barest of glances, obviously just as nervous as Yang.

Somehow the space of a glance was enough. Despite his weakened state, Adam struck. With one hand, he lashed out at Yang, forcing her to slip to the side as he drew his knife in the other. Blake saw him raise his weapon and began to react, but too slowly. The blow to her head had slowed her reflexes significantly, and despite her effort to pull back, the blade was still plunging directly toward the center of her exposed throat. Yang was ready, though, and despite her awkward positioning, she managed to snap her right hand out to intercept the strike.

But it didn’t land. It had been a feint, and before his hand was stopped by Yang’s, Adam dropped the knife from his right, catching it in his left and thrusting it up violently into the barely-covered crack in Yang’s armor. Pain raged up the arm and into her shoulder, and Yang reached over and blindly hit the release on her arm. With a quick twist, she disengaged the unit and threw the whole thing violently aside, tearing Adam’s knife from his grasp as it tangled in the tape wrapped around the forearm of her prosthetic.

Part of Yang considered making a joke about disarming, but her humor drained out of her as she realized the reality of the situation. Blake had managed to keep her feet, but she was wobbling. Adam was far from steady, but the predatory smile on his lips indicated that he wasn’t yet done.

And Yang was down a limb. She had lost her incredibly strong, nearly indestructible arm. Her trump card. Without it, what was she? What should she do?

_Coward._

No.

_Run, coward._

NO.

She looked to her right. While she was missing an arm, there was something far better waiting for her there: Blake. Yang may have been broken, may have been diminished from what she once was, but seeing Blake standing by her side reminded her of who she had been, who she still was. That person didn’t derive strength from invulnerability, from never getting knocked down. The truly awesome might of the Dragon was her ability to get back up; to fight on against more powerful opponents even after they’d put her down, seemingly for good.

Yang looked at Blake, saw the set jaw, the squared shoulders, the raised fists. She was ready to fight, despite the fact that her vision was likely swimming, despite the pain and exhaustion she was feeling; she wasn’t backing down. With a smooth pivot, Yang swung her right foot back, raising her left hand as she stared down her opponent.

Adam shook his head. “Pathetic.”

He lashed out, a sweeping kick that sailed over Yang’s head as she rolled under it, sparing a glance to see Blake spin and pivot past it, flowing around Adam. Yang grinned as she pivoted, feeling the fire burning in her belly as she came up to use her momentum to deliver a right hook…

She cursed as her abbreviated arm swiped through the air, but kept moving, switching her feet in a short hop-step as she spun into a devastating jumping roundhouse kick that she was sure even Pyrrha would have approved of and landed it on the side of his completely exposed head. She nearly fell when she found it strangely unyielding. She glanced up in confusion to find a dark boot on the opposite side of his face. Looking down revealed it was connected to a slightly wobbling Blake, who had apparently had the same idea.

As one, they pulled back their extended legs and watched with satisfaction as Adam’s eyes rolled back into his head. He was unconscious before he even hit the ground. The dust swirled up around him, parting as Blake rushed through it and pounced on Yang, embracing her and asking if she was ok, responding to Yang’s inquiries of the same that she was fine.

“What happened with the hostages?” Blake asked, pulling back suddenly.

“Sun showed up,” Yang explained. “Last I saw, he and Coco were watching them.”

Blake narrowed her eyes and swiveled her ears. “It’s gone quiet outside.” She listened for another beat, then shook her head. “Hopefully it’s fine, but we need to get back to them. We need to tell them what happened.”

“Ok,” Yang replied, nodding grimly and looking around for her discarded arm until she spotted it. “But we’re not leaving him behind to escape.” Wrinkling her nose, she plucked out the knife and tossed it aside, shoving the connection home and bracing as it came online.

“Are you ok?” Blake asked, worry written all over her face.

Yang gave it a second, waiting for the pain from the damaged components, but was pleasantly surprised. “Actually, yeah.” She flexed her fingers. “Seems he didn’t hit anything too important.” Returning to the slumped figure, she reached down and grabbed the collar of his jacket roughly, pulling his face off the ground but leaving the rest of his long frame to drag. She wasn’t of a mind to expend too much energy making sure he had a comfortable trip. Looking up at Blake, she grinned at her own pettiness. “Shall we?”


	41. Aftermath

The walk back through the warehouse was slow and silent, with only the soft sound of cloth dragging across gritty concrete to keep them company. Blake looked up from her feet to the slumped form of Adam, gripped tightly in Yang’s clenched fist. Yang herself was resolute, her jaw set and eyes facing forward, ready for whatever might be lurking ahead.

But Blake couldn’t worry about that yet. In the calm that had settled over them after their fight with Adam, she couldn’t stop seeing the flowery explosion that had spelled the end of two people's lives. Two people who had gone from strangers to teammates to, she dared to hope, friends faster than she’d thought possible. Now they were dead, all because they’d been following her orders. That they had died potentially saving the city was little consolation; who can care about an entire city? It’s such an abstract concept when you get down to it, especially when it’s bought for the price of two very real, very dear people.

She felt Yang watching her, reading her like a book, as always. “You should check in with the team. Maybe they’re…”

“Yang,” she interrupted. “Don’t get my hopes up, please.”

“You should still check in.”

Blake sighed but realized she had no real argument. “Yatsu?”

“Yeah, Blake?”

“Have you…have you heard from Aqua or Carmina?” She held her breath, daring to hope despite knowing it would only lead to heartbreak.

“No.” Fuck hope. “Not since they landed.”

“Ok…wait.” Blake stopped in her tracks, replaying what she’d just heard in her mind. “Did you say landed?”

“Yeah. Hold on, did your radio cut off after you warned us?”

“Yes!” Blake cried, heedless of who may be alerted by her outburst. “What happened?”

“Aqua got nervous before you even came on, said she was strapping on an emergency parachute. When she heard your voice she must have grabbed Carmina and bailed because the next thing I heard that wasn’t incomprehensible cursing was them shouting about aiming for the tier where you are. After they touched down, they went dark, and I haven’t heard anything since.”

“But they’re alive?” she gasped, hardly daring to believe it.

“As far as I know.”

Blake sank down onto her haunches, hugging her knees and laughing while tears streamed down her face. They were alive. Those wonderful, mad, resourceful women had survived. She could hardly think straight against the flood of relief coursing through her system.

A gentle hand brought her back to herself. “Blake.” She looked up, following the strong arm up to Yang’s lovely face. “We aren’t done yet. We need to find the others.”

Blake laughed and rose, wiping her face and trying to collect herself. “Right,” she agreed, and they set off again. A few minutes later, they were approaching the place where the hostages had been, and Blake began to feel a nervous weight in her stomach.

Yang watched her as though she could hear her thoughts. “What is it?”

Blake looked over at her, then back ahead. “I don’t hear anyone inside.”

“At all?”

Blake shook her head again.

“What about outside?”

She listened for a few strides, then shrugged. “I don’t hear gunshots.”

The pair picked up their pace, Yang heedless of her burden as he dragged along behind her. It only took a moment to confirm what Blake had heard, or not heard, rather. They didn’t bother to stop in the now-empty area that had once held the prisoners, though Yang did cast an uncertain gaze at the empty floor where a handful of unconscious White Fang guards should have been.

They pushed on, nearly jogging by the time they reached the front door. They stopped abruptly once they’d reached it, looking at each other, wide-eyed. For a moment, they stood frozen, then Blake took a breath and opened the door, shading her eyes as the late afternoon sun temporarily blinded her.

“There you are!” called a familiar voice, sending a chill down Blake’s spine despite his jovial tone. “I was just about to send in a rescue party.”

Blake blinked her eyes as Beringer came into focus, surrounded by some of his goons…and about twenty or thirty armed mercenaries, Death’s Messengers, looking at her with guns drawn. She risked a glance to the side, and her heart soared as she saw Aqua and Carmina standing, arms raised, next to Coco. Sun peaked around them, offering a sheepish smile, and the Councilmen scowled in a huddled line just beyond. A small pile of guns and tiny devices that looked like earpieces sat just out of reach from the group, which explained why no one had heard from them. White Fang soldiers lay tied up and moaning not far away, and Blake tried to swallow her guilt at sending an armed force against those who had once been her comrades. Looking down at Adam, she reminded herself that those days were long past.

She turned back to Beringer, trying to get a read on him. Surely he wouldn’t double-cross her now, right? There was still too much on the line for him. She decided to lead with confidence. “Lou!” she called back. “Thanks for showing up! As you can see, the fight’s done now, so we can all just put away our weapons, don’t you think?”

“No,” he replied, his voice cold as he stared back at her. “I don’t think so. It’s time for you to honor our part of the agreement.”

Blake nodded, trying to look as though the conversation was going exactly as she’d intended. “Of course. Just like I promised.” She reached into her pocket, slowly, and retrieved his scroll. With a few quick taps, she entered the location of one of her dead drops.

She tossed the scroll at Lou, smiling when he stepped back to let one of his goons catch it for him. After he’d accepted it from the man, he looked down at what Blake had written. “And my notebooks will be there?”

“They will.”

“What about the rest?”

“Deleted, permanently.”

Lou closed the scroll and tucked it away. “Well, Fiona, or whatever your name is,” he said. “I can’t say it’s been a pleasure, but I can say it will be.” Turning to the mercs, he announced. “You lot are the Messengers, yeah? Well, I need you to send a message. Kill this broad and all of her friends. Let that be a message to any who want to screw with Lou Beringer.”

“Sir, uh, what about the Council?”

Beringer considered this, looking at the once-proud men in their dirty suits. Fig and Leaf were sniveling, all dignity lost in the face of imminent death. Oak was hunched and resigned, apparently too lost in his personal defeat to even register what was happening around him. Only Aspis stood in defiance, staring down the line of mercenaries like a principal preparing to scold naughty school children. The moment hung, waiting to turn on the whim of one man.

“Why would I, a concerned citizen of Mistral, want the Council dead?” he sneered. “Of course, I would expect a favor in kind, given that I’ve saved all of your lives.”

Fig and Leaf groveled and nodded, of course, swearing they’d do anything. Eventually, even Oak nodded, his face downcast and sullen. Aspis looked at the others, frowning his disgust. Turning back toward Beringer, he spat in the dusty street. “That’s what I say to your offer. I don’t do favors for criminals.”

Beringer nodded, seemingly unsurprised by the turn of events. “It seems Councilman Aspis was hit during the firefight with the White Fang, but fortunately the others survived unharmed. Am I clear?” The mercenaries nodded. “Good. Do your thing, boys.”

Blake’s mind raced. They were caught, dead to rights. There was no cover, no way to escape or distract or fight back, but still she searched, even if it was in vain. The seconds ticked past, time seeming to slow as she accepted that this was the end.

The silence lingered. At first, Blake thought it was just time freezing in place, but then she saw the annoyed look on Beringer’s face. Something was wrong. “What are you doing?” he demanded.

“Holding, sir,” responded the nearest merc.

“I gave you an order.”

“With all due respect,” the man replied. “You don’t give the orders.”

Beringer stepped in front of him, heedless of his still-raised rifle. “I paid you, so you will do as I say!” he bellowed.

“Actually, you paid my boss, and she just told us to hold.”

Beringer’s enraged reply was cut off by the sound of engines filling the air. Everyone but the Death’s Messengers looked up, shocked to see a small, unmarked craft descending to the street just behind the firing line. The craft had hardly settled to the ground when the door slid open, and a lithe woman sprang out. Blake gaped. Even if she had never seen pictures, she would have known exactly who she was looking at. Despite the dark hair and the pale skin and the extra decades, Yang and her mother looked so much alike that it would be impossible to miss.

“Lower your weapons, now!” she commanded, her voice ringing out across the crowd. As one, the Death’s Messengers complied, pointing their guns at the dirt.

Beringer seethed, storming toward her. “Raven, what are you doing?”

“Ending our contract,” she stated, tossing a suitcase at his feet. “There’s half of what you paid. I’d say it’s a fair exchange.”

“Half? Half?! I’ll have your head, you witch, I’ll have you gutted and dragged through the-“

Beringer cut off as every gun that had previously been pointed at his enemies turned toward him.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” Raven asked, leering down at him.

“You’ll pay for this,” Beringer growled, backing away and signaling his men to follow. “Good luck ever getting work in this town again. And if I ever catch you without your goons, you’re dead!”

“Oh, I’m shaking in my boots,” Raven snarked, her smile widening. “Run along now, Lou. I grow tired of this conversation.”

Beringer snarled and balled his fists, but he knew when he was beaten. Turning on his heel, he stalked away, leading his men down the street in a cloud of grumbled curses.

“Quite a mess you got yourself into, Yang.”

Yang’s jaw flexed, and her brow furrowed. Blake tried to imagine the raging emotions being held back behind her eyes but wasn’t sure she even could.

“Raven, do you always have to be a bitch?”

Blake’s head snapped back toward the ship, where a long and lanky figure was climbing out.

“Qrow?” she and Yang said in unison.

“What? Did you think that Raven just decided to turn over a new leaf?” He smiled at his sister, laughing when she scoffed and looked away.

“Are we done here?” she demanded.

Qrow looked at her. “Yes, Raven, we’re done.” He shook his head slowly. “I can’t believe I had to call in a favor so you wouldn’t kill your own daughter, but there it is. We’re even.”

Raven shot him a dirty look, her eyes guilty as they tracked back to Yang before she turned away again. “Good. Am I free to go?”

Qrow sighed. “RLIC doesn’t have the manpower to take you and your goons in, though the Mistral authorities may feel differently.”

“Well, I guess we’ll be off then.” Turning to her men, she barked, “Messengers, roll out!” As her mercenaries stowed their weapons and took off at a trot, Raven spared one last look for her daughter. “Yang,” she said, with a slight tip of her head.

Yang arched an eyebrow, her face a mask of stone despite the full-body tremble that Blake hoped wasn’t visible from further off. “Mom.”

Blake couldn’t believe it. She had never seen a parent act so heartlessly toward their own blood, and as Raven turned to leave, she found she couldn’t stay silent. “So, you’re the famous Raven.”

The glare she was met with should have been withering, may have been if she were someone else, even the person she had been not that long ago. But she wasn’t, and she didn’t, and when Raven saw that, she smirked, then threw her chin in the air. “I am. Did I live up to my reputation?” she mocked.

“Honestly,” Blake said, crossing her arms. “I’m underwhelmed.”

Qrow snorted a laugh as Raven scowled, started to reply, and then turned in a huff to follow her men. Blake was pleased to see a small smile on Yang’s lips, though it sat in contrast to the cloud of sadness hanging over her eyes. When she saw Blake looking at her she mouthed her thanks.

Then they were beset by hugs and questions from their team, no one able to exchange much information beyond general relief that they were all alive and relatively well, and that somehow Mistral was still in one piece. As soon as they were able, Blake and Yang extricated themselves and trotted over to where Qrow was conferring with Aspis.

“Uncle Qrow!” Yang called as they approached.

“Hey, Firecracker.” Qrow favored his niece with a rare smile. “And Blake, good, I was hoping to have a word,” he said as she approached. “Councilman Aspis, I’d like to introduce Blake and Yang.”

The tall, broad man smiled at them. “It’s a pleasure to meet you both. I hear I have you to thank for my rescue.”

“Not just us,” Blake replied.

He nodded. “Then please, pass my thanks on to the rest of your team.”

“Councilman,” Blake said, not willing to waste any more time. “I need to tell you about Oak-“

“I’m aware.”

“You’re…what?”

“He confessed when he was tied up with us; begged me to help him and promised me anything if I did.”

“Well, if you need it, I have evidence.”

“Good, good. I suspect he’ll be more reticent now that there are no guns pointed at his head. Evidence will be just what I need to make sure he sees justice for his treason.”

Blake grimaced. “The other two Councilmen aren’t much better.”

Aspis closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I had feared as much, but thank you for confirming it.” He looked down at her. “It seems I owe you even more than my life, young lady. I wish I could repay you properly.”

Blake looked at Qrow, unable to read his closed expression, then turned back to the Councilman. “Well-“

But she was stopped when he raised a hand. “Mr. Branwen and I have already discussed your…situation. I will do what I can, but it won’t resolve itself immediately.”

Yang looked up sharply. “What-?”

But Blake had anticipated his response and cut her off. “I understand.”

“But I will try.”

Try, right.

But it was something, and Blake tried to mean it when she replied: “Thank you.”

“You should go,” Qrow cut in. “The police are on their way. I’ll handle talking to them, but you all shouldn’t be here when they arrive.”

“But-“ Yang began in protest.

“Go, I’ll meet up with you later,” Qrow assured her. “I’ve been given diplomatic status, so I’ll be fine, but RLIC is still not technically supposed to be operating in Mistral.”

Blake nodded her head back toward the others. “Fine, but make sure you get Adam into custody.”

Qrow followed her gesture, his eyes widening when he saw the prone figure lying in the dirt. “You captured Adam Taurus?” he asked, obviously impressed.

Blake smiled and turned to go. “Sure did, and I’ll give you the full report as soon as you catch up.” Dipping her head slightly, she added, “Councilman.”

Aspis nodded in return. “Ms. Belladonna.”

It felt good to hear her name said like that, as though it were an honorable moniker rather than a death sentence, and it added a slight bounce to her step as she sauntered back toward her team. Yang seemed more subdued, but even she couldn’t stay mad in the face of the boisterous group waiting for them. As they approached, everyone looked to Blake, even Coco, as though expecting something.

Her eyes searched their faces, concern building as the silence grew. “What?” she asked finally.

“Well? Where we going?” Mina demanded.

“For…?”

“To celebrate, dummy!” Aqua laughed, grabbing her in a one-armed hug.

Blake looked to Coco for support, but she was waved off. “Oh no, I didn’t lead this op; you did. You have to finish it,” she said, leaning heavily against Carmina but grinning in a way that made it seem it was only partially because of how weak she was.

Blake smiled as she took in the expectant eyes watching her and ducked under Aqua’s arm so she could tuck herself into Yang’s. “I do know a place, as a matter of fact,” she said slowly. “Someone call the others, tell them to meet us there.”

\--

“Why this place?” Coco asked, still leaning heavily on Carmina.

Blake gazed at the little hole in the wall bar, surprised to find she was finally happy to see it. “This is where I used to meet Qrow to give him my reports, it just felt right.”

Aqua pushed past them and opened the door, stepping aside to hold it. “Well?” she asked, looking back at the slightly ragged crew with her red, wind-swept face. “We going in or standing out here all day?”

“Definitely going in,” Yang offered, pulling Blake forward to lead the charge, the others piling in close behind.

The inside was dim and empty other than the bartender and a few regulars in to grab a drink before the sun went down. Looking around, it was obvious that none of the booths were meant to accommodate them. Before Blake could suggest they find a new spot, Aqua and Yang were already cheerily shoving tables together and rearranging chairs. The bartender watched with a cocked eyebrow but didn’t say anything, so they took it as tacit approval and began slumping into chairs.

“Who’s getting the first round?” Aqua asked.

“Let’s see…” Carmina said, tapping her chin with one finger and looking around. “Has anyone else here been thrown out of an airship today?”

“I did not throw you out!” Aqua protested. “I...guided you out…to safety!”

“Without a parachute.”

“I mean, I had one…“ Aqua’s rebuttal died on her lips under Carmina’s scowl and was replaced with a sheepish smile. “Without a parachute,” she conceded.

Everyone burst out laughing, giddy over the number of times they’d all escaped disaster recently. Once they’d quieted, Carmina finished, “So, yeah, I’m not buying.”

“I can buy-” Aqua offered.

“No,” Mina interrupted.

“Why not?”

“Because you threw me out of an airship,” Mina said, her voice softening. “And definitely saved my life.” Aqua smiled and settled into her seat, the red in her cheeks no longer just from the wind.

“I got captured and beaten by terrorists, so I’m not buying,” Coco volunteered. “Also, they took my money.”

It shouldn’t have been funny, but something about how she said it drew another rise out of the group, only passing when the front door opened to admit Yatsuhashi and Hark.

“What are we laughing about?” the big man asked.

“Just figuring out who’s buying the first round,” Sun explained.

Yatsu grinned as he pulled up a chair. “Did you guys know that Hark and I are late because we had to compile and distribute a video that would not only ruin a corrupt Councilman’s career, but also discredit the High Leader of the White Fang and, you know, prevent war?”

The group responded with cheers, growing more boisterous when the door opened again to admit an oddly chipper Jay followed by Ivy, still dressed to the nines and chatting amicably with her companion as she strolled in.

“Are there drinks?” Jay demanded, grabbing two chairs and sliding them up to the table.

“We still haven’t decided who’s buying,” Aqua complained.

“I’m buying,” Ivy offered. “What do people want?”

“Beer!” came the chorused response.

Ivy laughed and glided over to the bar, while the others looked from her to Jay.

“Why was she so eager to buy?” Coco asked.

Jay shook his head, but his smile didn’t fade. “We had time to kill, and the only thing I had handy in the little safe house was a deck of cards.”

Coco’s good eye widened. “No.”

“Jay, you didn’t,” Hark opined.

“How could I have known?!” Jay complained, though Blake noticed he still didn’t seem truly upset. “When I suggested poker she said she had a passing familiarity-“

“That’s how she gets you,” Yatsu moaned.

“So I explained the rules to her-“

Carmina shook her head. “Classic.”

“Then we had a few friendly hands-“

“That’s how it starts,” Sun agreed.

“Then the next thing I knew, she cleaned me out!” Jay threw his hands up, but Blake still couldn’t quite shake the feeling that he wasn’t upset. It was confirmed when he smiled as Ivy came back with a stack of cups and sat down next to him. They didn’t touch or share a secret glance or anything; there was no tension there. Quite the opposite, they seemed so completely at ease with each other that it made Blake think of Yang and Ruby.

“It was beginner’s luck,” Ivy insisted, attempting to keep her face blank as a smile fought its way onto her lips.

“Beginner’s luck, my ass!” Jay retorted. “You took me for almost three months' salary that I had stashed away! If RLIC doesn’t start paying me again, I’m going to have become a mercenary.”

“Ok, maybe I’ve played once or twice,” Ivy admitted, flashing a winning smile.

“Yeah, yeah.” Jay shook his head, then held up his hand. “You got me fair and square, Vy.”

Blake watched as Ivy met his hand with a fist bump, complete with a mimed explosion as they parted. After they finished, Yang leaned over and murmured in her ear, “Is it just me, or is that the most wholesome shit you’ve ever seen?”

Blake grinned. “I’m tempted to take a picture in case I ever need to be reminded of what purity is.”

“You could always just look at me-“

“Oh, please!” Blake snorted. “You are many things, but pure is not one of them.”

Yang gasped in mock outrage, but before she could reply, the bartender came over to deposit pitchers of foamy beer. The table jostled and cheered and sloshed the amber liquid into cups that they passed around and sipped from until Coco waved them all to silence. “Toasts!” she ordered. When they all turned to her, she shook her head. “Not my job, not this time. Blake led the op; she gives the toasts.”

Blake’s eyes went wide as the table turned toward her, and she briefly considered making an excuse to flee. Looking around, though, she saw that the waiting eyes were friendly, and Yang’s smile, glowing with pride, grounded her enough to make her realize that it was something she actually wanted to do. She rose and held out her glass, seeking her first target. “I guess I’ll start with our generous patron for the evening-“

“Technically, that’s me!” Jay chimed in, much to the enjoyment of the rowdy bunch.

Blake laughed along, then continued when she could be heard. “True, true, but I’m referring, of course, to Ivy.” She looked at the codebreaker, still resplendent in her dress, one hand holding her beer while the other danced and fidgeted on her lap. “Who not only deciphered Beringer’s books, cracked his scroll’s password in about fifteen seconds, and got us past a security door while we were sneaking around a White Fang facility, but also went undercover and got that pig Oak to cough up his plan.” Ivy looked away, but her smile was proud, as it had every right to be. “To Ivy, the best codebreaker in Remnant!”

“To Ivy!” the others cheered. “Here, here!”

“Not to interrupt,” Hark said, interrupting. “But you forgot something.”

“Oh?”

He handed his scroll to Blake, and she looked down at the headline displayed across the screen, reading it out loud for the others. “In Narrow Margin, Mistral votes against Oak and War.” She looked up at Hark, over at the grinning Ivy, then back down at the headline. “Well, shit,” she said. “The people of Mistral came through after all.”

“I told you!” Ivy exclaimed.

“It was still good we were there to stop all the exploding and the murdering of the Council and whatnot,” Aqua chimed in. “But yeah, you definitely called that one.”

Without even looking, Jay offered his hand and was met with another fistbump from Ivy. Blake smiled and shook her head. “So, codebreaker, seductress, and pollster. Is there anything you can't do?”

“I can’t cook to save my life,” Ivy admitted, drawing more uproarious laughter.

Blake smiled and handed Hark back his scroll, then looked down at him, raising her glass again. “To Hark.” The others quickly joined her in raising their glasses. “He may not be able to lose a tail, but there’s no one I’d rather have as my eyes and ears.” Everyone nodded and agreed. “Hark, your information saved my life, all of our lives, more times than I count since this all started. Thank you.”

“To Hark!”

“Yatsu,” she went on, finding a groove and surprising herself by enjoying it. “For his amazing technical prowess, for keeping us all fed, and for teaching me what kinetic hacking is,”

“Wait,” Coco cut in. “What did he break?”

Everyone laughed while Mina explained their escape from the hospital, letting Coco in on the joke.

Once she was laughing along with the others, Blake added, “To Yatsu!”

“To Yatsu!”

“To Jay,” Blake said, turning to the rifleman. “For watching our backs, for keeping us armed, for protecting us, and for getting Ivy out today.”

“He looked like an action hero from a movie,” Ivy added.

“I’m sure he did,” Blake agreed. “To Jay, our personal action hero!”

“To Jay!” everyone chorused, while the man in question waved them off and sipped his beer to hide his grin.

“To Carmina, for hauling our asses all over Mistral and beyond, for constantly pulling us out of danger, oh, and for flying a gods-damned bomb out of the city. While we’re at it, to Aqua for diffusing all the other bombs and hauling our would-be martyr out in time to sit here and bitch about being thrown out of a ship.”

Mina opened her mouth to protest, then thought better of it. “Yeah, that’s fair.”

“To Mina and Aqua!” everyone cheered in response.

“To Sun,” she said, turning and looking down at where he was trying to appear comfortably slouched despite obviously favoring his side. “For completely ignoring my order that he not do any fighting.”

He smiled sheepishly, “What…?”

“Yang told me about your heroics,” Blake lectured, smiling despite herself. “Thank you, but if you need more stitches, you can take yourself to the hospital.”

“To Sun!” Yang called out. “For the most dramatic entrance ever while saving my ass.”

“To Sun!”

Blake held Sun’s eyes, hoping that her thanks for what he had done was clear in her gaze. He gave her a half-smile and slight nod, seemingly unperturbed by the unconscious way she was rubbing Yang’s back. Blake was impressed yet again at how decent, how truly good Sun was, and hoped that he found someone worthy of that goodness someday.

With nothing else she could say to him, at least not there, Blake turned to Coco, wincing again as she took in her bruised face and swollen eye. She looked better, no doubt helped by cleaning up the dried blood, but it still pained Blake to see what she had gone through. “To Coco,” She began, her voice somber.

“Oh, for crying out loud, it’s not a funeral. I’m fine!” Coco sniped.

Blake chuckled and did her best to lighten her tone. “Fair enough. It’s not a funeral, but mostly because you risked your life to save Sun and me. What you did was so incredibly selfless and brave-“

“And completely ruined by the fact that you fools rushed into danger to try to rescue me-“

Aqua cut her off. “Good thing we did. Otherwise, the city would be on fire right now.”

“Fine,” Coco allowed.

“The point is,” Blake went on. “We’re lucky to have you back; this team isn’t the same without its leader, and I’m certainly not about to volunteer for the job again.”

More laughter followed as everyone piled on their agreement that they were relieved to have Coco back safe and sound.

“To Coco!” Blake said when things quieted.

“To Coco!”

Blake turned to Yang, her mind going blank as her jolly momentum came screeching to a halt. The conversation ebbed as everyone waited for her to speak, but how could she encapsulate everything she needed to say into some pithy sentence? How could she say anything without it being too raw, too real? She looked down, and Yang smiled up at her, flooding her mind with relief as she realized the truth: it didn’t really matter what she said; Yang already knew her heart.

“To Yang,” she said, her voice too tender by half for the setting. “For being there when I needed you most.”

“Just kiss already!” Jay called, his hands cupped around his mouth.

Yang turned to swat him but was stopped by Blake grabbing her collar and pulling her bodily to her feet and directly into a deep kiss. It lingered on as the gang hooted and whistled, only breaking when Blake was worried that she wasn’t going to be able to stop herself from dragging them both to the grimy floor. As they stood, breathless and clutching each other, Yang leaned in and whispered in her ear, “I’ll always be there when you need me.”

“Alright, lovebirds, are we drinking or what?” Carmina demanded, breaking the spell of the moment.

“We’re drinking,” Blake said, laughing as she and Yang untangled themselves and sat.

“Wait!” Coco shouted, pushing herself to her feet, still a bit wobbly but finding her balance with a hand on Mina’s shoulder. “I know I said I wouldn’t toast, but I lied,” she said, raising her glass. “To Blake. For saving us, for sticking around, for becoming one of us.”

“To Blake,” the rest intoned, serious as they raised their glasses and looked at her.

Blake flushed but kept her head up. Sitting there, amongst friends, as part of a group rather than the eternal outsider, was something she wanted to remember clearly. Much as she wished otherwise, she knew it couldn’t last. There was no reason to tell them that, though. Not yet, anyway. “Thank you,” she said.

“Now we drink!” Coco announced, dropping back into her chair and tossing back half of her beer in one go as the rest of the table erupted in cheers and clinking cups. The slanting light from outside glinted off glasses as they were raised and tipped, lowered and filled, then raised again, all while the cheerful bunch chattered and laughed and recounted their pieces of the mad plan they’d just pulled off. For the briefest of moments, Blake let herself imagine it would always be like this, that she could stay and be part of a team, that Yang would be there too, arm around her as it was now, talking and laughing with the rest. It was magic, but it was a dream. The sound of the creaky old door opening and shutting snapped Blake back to reality, signaling the coming of the end before she even turned to see who it was.

“You kids are celebrating like you just saved the world or something.”

Aqua laughed, unfazed by the snide greeting. “That’s because we did!”

Yang’s head had whirled around at the sound of the voice, and a wide smile spread across her face as she sprang to her feet. “Uncle Qrow!” she shouted, running over and leaping into his arms.

“Hey Firecracker-whoa,” he said, his eyes going wide as she squeezed him. Stepping back, he looked at her arm as it gleamed in the low sunlight. “Easy with that hardware.”

“Easy?” she asked, her smile fading somewhat. “I should squeeze the life out of you for sending me on this crazy adventure. Do you have any idea what I’ve been through, what I’ve done?”

“You saved your little sister, then it seems you joined up with some of my former colleagues and saved Mistral,” he replied matter-of-factly.

“And where, exactly, were you in all of this?”

Qrow rubbed his neck and looked away, sighing deeply. “I’m sorry I asked so much of you,” he said. “But if I had stuck around I’d be in a jail cell right now, and Ruby would still be captured. It was the best I could come up with.”

Yang shook her head, but her lips twitched upward. “You’re damn lucky this all worked out. Otherwise, Dad would have killed you.”

Qrow laughed. “Yeah, that’s me. Mr. Lucky.”

The sound of a throat being impatiently cleared drew everyone’s eyes past Qrow. Someone had been standing so still behind him that none of them had noticed, despite the shocking white of her uniform and even whiter hair. “Winter?” Yang said, cocking her head.

 _Winter Schnee, of course._ Blake spotted the resemblance immediately but mostly saw the hard-faced woman as a series of contrasts to Weiss. Both were as frosty as the family crest under which they were born but of completely different forms. Weiss was like a piece of ice that had been handled gently by warm hands. Cold and hard, sure, but also smooth and soft around the edges, clear and open and beautiful, like something you may hold against your neck to cool off on a hot day. Winter was nothing like that. She was all sharp edges and mysterious depths: a glacier with a fine layer of snowpack and a sheer, intimidating face. She was beautiful, but in a remote, majestic way, and she did not look like someone whose path you wanted to cross.

“Hello, Ms. Xiao Long,” she replied, inclining her head in what undoubtedly counted as a warm fashion for her.

“Winter, please,” Yang replied, shaking her head. “For the millionth time, it’s Yang.”

The woman smiled, almost sheepish. “I…right. My apologies. Old habits and all that.”

“It’s fine, what are you doing here?”

“Diplomat Schnee,” Qrow answered for her. “Is here to ensure that tensions between Mistral and Atlas don’t get worse.”

“Quite right,” Winter agreed. “Though when I arrived this morning, I was rather shocked to find my sister waiting for me at the embassy.”

“Are she and Ruby there now?” Yang asked.

Winter shook her head. “No, I’m sorry. After they told me what happened, I put them on a medical transport back to Vale. Ms. R-“ She caught herself, another partial smile sneaking onto her face. “Ruby is recovering well from her injuries, but I thought it best that she be overseen by trained professionals on her journey. Though my sister did appear quite intent on caring for her personally. They seem somewhat more…comfortable with one another than I recall.”

Yang returned her wry smile with a broad grin. “I think Weiss finally decided to confess her feelings.”

Winter’s smile grew. “So it would seem,” she said. “I also thought it best that they both leave Mistral immediately, lest the situation here…take a turn.”

“Thank you, Winter,” Yang said, letting out a tightly held breath. “For everything.”

“It seems it is I who should be thanking all of you,” the diplomat said, striding forward, hands clasped behind her back as she addressed the table.

“My sister informed me of the events leading up to today, and I have gleaned some further details from Councilman Aspis and Qrow. It seems that Mistral and Atlas, if not all of Remnant, owe RLIC a debt of gratitude.”

“Who says we’re RLIC?” Jay asked, a cocky grin on his face.

Winter’s lips quirked up again, just a touch. “Who indeed?” She let the farcical question hang in the air for a beat. “Regardless, I would like to extend my unofficial thanks to all of you.”

“Unofficial?” Carmina prompted.

“Yes, unofficial.” Winter frowned, but pressed on, “I cannot thank you officially, much less publicly, and neither can the Mistral Council. Either would require that we acknowledge that you were operating here illegally, and we would need to arrest and try you accordingly.”

“Unofficial works for me,” Carmina replied, raising her glass.

“I thought it might. I also thought you’d like to know that the Mistral Council is, as we speak, renewing their commitment to the Vytal Treaty. I’m told that RLIC will be officially allowed to operate within the kingdom’s borders in a matter of days.”

“Did you hear that crew?” Coco said, smiling broadly. “We need to party now before we’re put back to work!”

Winter smiled as cheers and calls for more beer rang out at the table before her. “Indeed, now if you’ll excuse me-“

“Diplomat Schnee?” Hark chimed in.

She paused. “Yes?”

“I have some intel on one of your generals. You, uh, you may want to know about it.”

Winter cocked an eyebrow, but her face was otherwise unreadable. After a moment, she reached into her jacket and produced a small card. “This is my private number. You may contact me, off the record, here.”

Hark nodded as he accepted the card, slipping it into his pocket. “I will.”

“You have my thanks,” she said, favoring him with a probing look before returning to her business. “Ms. Belladonna, won’t you please join me at the bar? Yang, you’re welcome as well.”

Blake looked from the almost-familiar diplomat to Yang but found no answers in either of their faces. “Uh, sure.”

She rose and followed, noting with some amusement that she had been wrong about Weiss’s perfect posture. Compared to the woman in front of Blake, Weiss walked around in a perpetual slouch. The three women met at the bar, Qrow sidling up with them, apparently assuming he was invited as well. Winter looked at him but didn’t say anything.

“You ladies need anything to drink?” the bartender asked, wiping down a glass on the far side of the bar.

“No, thank you,” Winter replied, looking at the man and inclining her head. “We just need a moment.”

The bartender nodded back, smiling at her polite, if oddly formal, manner. “I’ll be over here if you need me.”

Winter turned to face Blake, her lips tight as she weighed her with crystalline-blue eyes. “Ms. Belladonna, the real reason I’m here is to offer you a warning and an apology.”

Blake pulled back slightly, shocked that a diplomat from Atlas was in such a place for her. “For what?”

“Mistral has already begun interrogating Mr. Taurus, and in the spirit of cooperation, they’ve offered to share information with Atlas authorities. It seems he implicated you as a co-conspirator, and there is a warrant out for your arrest.”

“But-!” Blake protested, cutting off when Winter raised her hand.

“I know that it’s false,” she said, her voice low and calm. “Everyone who knows the truth of what happened here knows that.”

Blake slumped. “But we can’t tell people what really happened.”

“Correct,” Winter agreed. “Or we’d have to arrest your entire team, including Yang.”

“Right,” Blake said, wishing she could melt into the floor.

“There’s also the matter of your past…ah, transgressions,” Winter went on, her voice tight. Blake’s head snapped back up, but Winter cut her protests off before they could form this time. “Which I understand are long behind you. My sister was quite adamant that you’ve more than made up for your storied past, and Qrow confirmed your involvement in preventing a massacre in Vale earlier this year.” Winter hesitated, then placed a hand gently on Blake’s shoulder. “If it were up to me, we would be pinning a medal to your chest, but it’s not. I will do what I can to rectify the situation, but without being able to disclose your involvement in today’s events, it will take time.”

“Yeah,” Blake said, her eyes burning as she stared at Winter’s immaculate boots. “I’ve been hearing that a lot today.”

“I am truly sorry, Ms… may I call you Blake?”

“Sure, why not?”

“Blake, I am truly sorry,” the woman repeated, squeezing Blake’s shoulder until she met her eyes again. There was sincerity there, as well as a deep well of conviction. Blake had to admit that there were likely worse people to have in her corner.

“I…thank you,” she mumbled before she registered everything that had been said. “Wait, are you here to arrest me?”

Winter smiled and pulled back, letting her hand drop. “As an official representative of Atlas, if I were to see you, I would indeed be required to call for your arrest.” Blake recoiled, trying to decide which exit she should use and guessing where men might be lying in wait. But then Winter chuckled, an oddly rich and genuine sound from the stiff woman. “However, as an official representative of Atlas, I would never frequent a place such as this, so there isn’t much chance that I’ll see you, is there?”

Blake let herself relax, a hair. “I…thanks, I guess?”

“Please, don’t thank me,” Winter replied, growing serious again. “Not arresting a hero is hardly a praiseworthy action, it is merely the right thing to do.”

“I still appreciate it.”

“You can thank me by not lingering in Mistral. I don’t have to turn you in, but I cannot stop the authorities from seeking you out, and there is little I can do for you once you are in custody.”

“I understand.” And Blake did. She had known she was going to have to leave, that her past was going to catch up, but hearing it said so bluntly still took the wind out of her sails. From behind her, a warm arm snaked around her waist. She looked over as Yang stepped up next to her.

“Any chance you could help us make an exit?”

Winter smiled sadly at Yang. “I could indeed arrange to have _you_ sent home to Vale, but I regret to inform you that I cannot extend that offer to Blake. Given all that has happened, security is incredibly thorough right now. Any disguise or attempt to sneak her onboard would be immediately detected. Then all of us would be arrested along with her.”

“Ah, yeah, that sounds…not great.”

Blake looked up Yang, preparing to tear her own heart in half for the one she loved. “Yang,” she said, swallowing hard. “You should go.” Even saying the words took her breath away, but it was the right thing to do. Yang had a life, a family, and she needed to go back to them. She couldn’t spend her life running because of things Blake had done, that wasn’t fair, that wasn’t-

“No,” Yang said, her eyes dancing as she looked down. “I don’t think I will.”

Blake froze. It was exactly what she wanted to hear, if she was honest with herself, but she couldn’t possibly allow it. “But-“

Yang cut her off. “No buts, this isn’t a vote; I’ve already decided.” While Blake sputtered and tried to protest Yang turned to Winter. “We’ll be gone before anyone can catch up to us, I promise.”

“See that you are,” Winter offered.

Blake barely heard either of them over the buzzing warmth that was bubbling up from her chest into her head. She knew she should protest more, that she should tell Yang to go home, but she couldn’t quite remember why. Something within in her was trying to tell her that she didn’t deserve a happy ending; that she was supposed to run off into the night, cold and alone, not ride off into the sunset with the one she loved. But the thought couldn’t gain traction with Yang’s arm wrapped around her, spreading heat and light through Blake’s mind and pushing the dark thoughts aside effortlessly.

Blake blinked and tuned back in when she heard Yang speaking again. “Oh, and can you pass a message to Weiss and Ruby for me?” Winter nodded. “Just let them know that we’re ok, and we’ll be in touch.”

“Of course,” Winter said. “Now, if you’ll excuse me-“

“Not going to hang around to celebrate, Ice Queen?” Qrow added, finally joining the conversation.

“Sadly, no,” Winter replied. “I am needed elsewhere to ensure the continued easing of tensions between our kingdoms.” She cocked a perfect eyebrow at him. “No doubt you can manage to celebrate enough for both of us.”

Qrow tipped the glass that had appeared in his hand at some point, smiling and taking a long draw. “Sure can.”

Winter rolled her eyes. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Blake, truly,” she said. “I hope that we might do so again in the future, under different circumstances.”

“As do I,” Blake agreed, coming out of her stupor and surprising herself with how much she meant it.

“Always a pleasure, Yang.”

“Likewise, Winter. Take care of yourself.”

Winter nodded, taking in the women before her and then the room at large with something like longing before putting her icy mask back in place and marching out the door.

“I don’t know what I expected from Weiss’s sister,” Blake murmured. “But she is both exactly, and not at all, it.”

Yang laughed. “Right? Such a crazy family.”

“Hey lovebirds, you going to cuddle by the bar all night or come join us?” Mina called, not acknowledging the fact that she was even more entangled with Coco at the moment. “You too, Qrow!”

“I don’t know,” Qrow said, striding over and perching on a nearby table. “I can’t be seen partying with you lot, I’ve got a reputation to uphold.”

Coco snorted. “Yeah, wouldn’t want people getting the mistaken impression that you have friends.”

Qrow laughed along with everyone else as he grabbed a chair and joined. Still just a little separate but grudgingly part of the group. Blake and Yang walked over, arms slung around each other, but didn’t sit.

“Guys, I’d love to stay,” Blake said, hesitating. It was true. She did want to stay. To stay and laugh and celebrate and not be running, just for one night. But that wasn’t her life. She was the girl who ran. At least this time, she didn’t have to do it alone.

“Then stay,” Jay said, shoving two freshly poured mugs toward them.

“But-“

“We heard enough to get the gist,” Sun interrupted. “You’re a wanted criminal, price on your head, dead or alive, and all that.”

“I mean, that’s a slight exaggeration-“

“So stay,” Sun insisted. “They aren’t going to find you tonight, and you can get a fresh start in the morning.”

Blake spared a glance at the red and gold light of the setting sun as it streamed in through the blinds, then looked over at Yang, receiving a shrug in return. “You know what?” Blake said, finding herself out of excuses. “Why not?”

So for one night, the girl who ran, didn’t. She stayed and allowed herself to be surrounded by friends and warmth and safety, nestled against the woman she loved through it all. And after far too many rounds, she let herself be led on a winding course down the dark street toward a place Qrow had rented out for all of them. (“Only useful thing you’ve done so far!” Yang had slurred at him as he showed them the way.)

The team stumbled their way inside, but Qrow hung back. “Yang, Blake, got a sec?”

Yang rubbed her eyes, straightening somewhat. “You’re not coming in?”

“No,” Qrow said. “I have a very lengthy report to get to.”

“So, what? No send-off tomorrow?” she asked.

Qrow shook his head. “Goodbyes aren’t really my thing. You know that.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Yang rolled her eyes but pulled the lanky man into a hug. “I’m still mad at you,” she mumbled into his shoulder.

“I know,” he said, patting her back. “And you should be. What I asked of you was unbelievably unfair. But you did good, kiddo.”

She pulled back, smiling up at him. “Thanks, I guess.”

He smiled down at her, then looked over at Blake. “You too, Blake. You did good work here.”

Blake looked away, realizing they had made their way to the edge of the tier as her eyes swept the twinkling lights of the rest of the city below. She breathed in the cool air of the night, grateful for its efforts to clear her head, even if they were only partially successful. There was too much to say, and all of it jumbled together in her clouded mind, so she simply nodded and looked up at him. “Thanks, Qrow,” she said. “Just doing my job.”

Qrow blew out a short laugh. “And a hell of a job you did,” he said, extending his hand. “We’ll miss you at RLIC, Blake.” He gave a half-smile. “I guess I’ll miss you too.”

Blake took his hand and used it to pull him into a hug, standing on her toes so her chin cleared his stooped shoulder. “You’ll totally miss me,” she said, laughing as they parted.

He waved a hand dismissively at her, trying to cover that his other hand was quickly wiping his face. “Yeah, yeah, keep telling yourself that.” His dark eyes shone in the lamplights. “So, where will you two go?”

“That’s a great question,” Yang said, giving Blake a look that said there was no wrong answer. “Well?”

Blake still couldn’t quite believe that she wasn’t going alone, but she was growing used to the idea. She smiled. “Well…Menagerie is beautiful this time of year.”

Yang cocked her head. “Didn’t you tell me once that Menagerie is beautiful every time of year?”

Qrow and Blake burst out laughing, drawing Yang in as well, even if she wasn’t sure why. “I’m sure I did,” Blake said once she could catch her breath.

Yang reached over and pulled her close. “I guess we’ll see, won’t we?” she murmured.

“Well,” Qrow said, clearing his throat. “It’s probably time for me to get going, and you two should get some rest before you head out. Do you have money, supplies, everything you need?”

Blake looked up at him, suddenly sad to be parting with a mentor that she had resented for so long. “Yeah, we’re all set. We’ll be gone before anyone notices.”

He nodded. “Good.”

“And Qrow.” Blake took a breath, but in the end found there was no way to properly sum up how grateful she was, how much she felt she owed him. “Thanks.”

He gave her one of his half-smiles, but she saw that he understood. “Sure thing, kid.” He looked off down the darkened street toward whatever awaited him at the other end, then back at Blake and Yang. “You two take care of each other, ok?”

“We always do,” Yang responded, pulling Blake closer.

Qrow nodded and turned to go. “See you around.”

“Later, Uncle Qrow!” Yang called after his retreating form.

Blake watched him go, tall and lean and slightly hunched, stalking along like a great bird seeking out its next meal. It was hard to believe there was a time when she would have given anything to be rid of him, but it hadn’t really been that long ago. Then again, as she stood in the lamplight, Yang’s arm around her waist, she realized it also been a lifetime ago. She turned and kissed Yang, quick and firm, just to remind herself the woman beside her was real.

“What was that for?” Yang asked, grinning down at her.

“Nothing,” Blake said, nuzzling against Yang’s shoulder. “Let’s go inside.”

\--

Blake had no memory of passing through the house, but when the world snapped back into focus she found herself astride Yang’s powerful hips on a plush bed in a darkened room. To have absolutely nothing between them after so many months of being separated by half a world was a heady rush, and Blake couldn’t resist wrapping her arms around Yang’s strong back and burying her face in the crook of her neck, pulling them close enough that she could feel the gentle ripple of muscle in her stomach as she laughed softly.

“I hope you’re not planning on sleeping quite yet,” Yang murmured in her ear.

“I’m not,” Blake replied, playing at being petulant. Then she took a deep breath, letting the warmth and familiar smell fill her. She pulled back to look at the lovely face peering up at her through the shadows. “I just need to feel you.”

Yang reached up and stroked her cheek. “I missed you.”

“I missed you so much-“ Blake was cut off as Yang pulled her down, kissing her hungrily. “I love you,” she panted as they parted.

“I love you too-“

This time she cut Yang off, the brief parting almost too much for her. As the kiss deepened, a burning hunger ignited deep within her, pure and sharp and undeniable. Blake thrilled at finally knowing what she wanted, who she wanted, and having her within reach. She pulled back once more, her eyes cutting through the darkness and seeing the slight question on Yang’s face. “I want you,” Blake declared, her voice hoarse with desire.

Yang’s eyes went wide, and her back arched, a small sound of desire escaping her lips. Then a slow smile split her face, the glint of a challenge in her eyes. Her smile widened as she rocked her hips in a subtle motion that nearly drove Blake mad. “Then take me.”

Blake wasn’t about to turn down that particular invitation. Part of her yearned to put to words everything that had happened in their time apart. There were things she wanted to explain, forgiveness to beg, promises to make, fears and longing to express, and she didn’t doubt Yang had the same. But they were beyond words now. It was time to let their skin and lips and hands do the talking.

And there was so much to say.


	42. Don't Forget to Write

The sun rose the next morning, rousing Blake with its unwelcome light. The moment she regained consciousness, she regretted it, moaning as her brain did its best to push its way out of her skull. A light chuckle and a creaking of the mattress beside her did little to help her mood as she curled into a ball and pulled the pillow over her head.

“Morning, sunshine,” Yang said, her voice cheery despite its low rasp. Blake groaned, earning a chuckle. “Oh, don’t be a baby.”

Blake sat up, opening her eyes the barest crack as she glared at Yang. She was relieved to find that her hangover wasn’t quite as bad as she thought and blinked and yawned her way toward something resembling consciousness. All the while, Yang bustled around the room, half-dressed, and Blake had to admit that the view was worth the price of admission.

Yang smiled and tutted at her. “Quit staring and get up. We need to get ready.”

Blake fumbled for a sarcastic response, but it was lost to a dopey grin as the word ‘we’ echoed in her mind. “Yeah,” she agreed instead. “We do.”

They dressed in silence, communicating with little touches and lingering glances and sheepish smiles as they retrieved their scattered clothes from the unfamiliar room. Blake remembered little of entering the house and less of how they found a room. She did have a pretty solid recollection of why her clothes were strewn haphazardly across every corner of the small space, however. She thought of the frenzied tangle of limbs they had become before succumbing to a dreamless slumber and couldn’t help but grin as her cheeks reddened.

Yang noticed, as she seemed to notice everything, and reached over to tip Blake’s chin into a quick kiss. “Last night was pretty amazing, wouldn’t you say?”

“I mean…” Blake bobbed her head back and forth. “I guess it was ok.”

“Ok? Just ok?” Yang demanded, her hands sliding down Blake’s sides. “I seem to remember you saying it was a little more than ok.” Blake shrieked and squirmed as Yang suddenly tickled her sides.

“Ok, alright!” she gasped through her laughter, pushing Yang’s hands off and closing her eyes briefly against her still-pounding headache. “It was amazing, mind-blowing even!” She laughed as they called a truce with another kiss, then pushed away. “We really do need to get ready, though.”

Yang looked down at herself, fully dressed. “Preaching to the choir,” she snarked. “I’m going to go down and see if there’s coffee or tea.”

Blake nodded and smiled her thanks, then finished hunting down her wayward clothes. She stopped to check her reflection in the small mirror by the door, fussed with her hair for a moment, accepted that there was little she could do to make it look like she wasn’t hungover, and followed after Yang. The door exited directly onto a small landing at the top of a narrow wooden stairwell, and as Blake descended the switchback stairs down three floors, she marveled at the fact that she felt like she was seeing everything for the first time. The ground floor opened up into a reasonably sized, if sparsely furnished, living room, and based on the sounds and smells wafting toward her, a kitchen waited just beyond.

Blake strode past the lone couch and reflexively shaded her eyes. The blinds on the windows were closed, but even the scant rays sneaking through were enough to set her head to aching again. The only thing keeping her going was the sound of a stovetop flame, one that she desperately hoped was heating a kettle.

The kitchen was small and prim. Yang was seated at the little round table in the corner, rubbing her temples and looking far less chipper than she had earlier, a fact that made Blake feel ever so slightly better about her own condition. Yatsu was up as well, though rather than his usual morning routine of casually whipping up a massive breakfast, he was slumped over the counter, staring wistfully at the coffee maker as it slowly filled itself with dark liquid.

“Morning, Yatsu,” Blake murmured, suspecting he wouldn’t take well to loud noises.

“Morning, Blake,” he croaked back. “Sorry, no breakfast, we didn’t have any food on hand.”

“That’s ok,” she said, walking over and patting him on the massive back. A hopeful glance confirmed that there was, in fact, a kettle on the stove, so she moved off to join Yang. “Tea will be plenty.”

“Yeah, not sure anyone will be in the mood for a big breakfast this morning anyway,” Yatsu agreed. “Your things from the safehouse are by the backdoor, by the way.” He pointed the way with a vague gesture. “Jay, Aqua, and I stopped by on the way here last night.”

“You are amazing,” Blake intoned, leaning back in her chair and closing her eyes, listening contentedly to the light gurgle of the kettle.

“You all look like shit,” Coco announced from the doorway.

Blake cracked an eye to take in the newest arrival. “You literally just escaped from being kidnapped and beaten, and then went out and drank all night on what I can only assume was an epically empty stomach.” She shook her head, taking in the immaculate woman. Well, immaculate save for a still-blackened eye. Even that was looking better, though. “How do you look better than the rest of us?”

“Get on my level,” Coco said with a shrug.

“She’s full of shit,” Carmina rasped, stumbling up behind her. “And covered in makeup.”

Coco smirked and put her arm around the sleepy pilot, slumping noticeably as they walked over to the table. One by one, the others trickled down and found perches around the little kitchen, all more than satisfied with coffee for breakfast. All save for Blake, who accepted the mug of tea that Yang got up to pour for her with a quiet smile, clutching the warm cup and praying that its strong contents would clear her head.

As coffee disappeared and minds ground to life, conversation emerged. Not nearly as loud and boisterous as the night before, but pleasant and wandering and comfortable. The kind of conversation you have on the last day of summer camp, or at the end of a long trek in the woods, when you’re trying to preserve something about to be lost with a pleasant game of pretend where you all ignore the nearness of the end. But then the mugs were empty, and Yatsu was slowly collecting them and depositing them in the sink. There came a lull as everyone tacitly acknowledged that the time had come.

Blake looked at Yang, then back at the silent team that had grown to be so much more to her. “Well,” she said. “We should probably get going.”

For a moment, her words hung in the air, their sad truth echoing around the room with the sound of a bubble bursting. Then she was beset by hugs and well-wishes and offers of assistance if she should ever need anything. Even Jay looked a little misty-eyed as he shook her hand, and Ivy shocked them all by launching herself into Blake’s arms for a quick embrace before quickly backing away.

When Carmina reached out to shake her hand, Blake batted it aside and hugged her. “I’m so glad you’re ok.”

Carmina chuckled and returned the embrace. “Me too,” she agreed. Then, more seriously, she added, “And thank you for bringing her back to me.”

Blake leaned back and held her gaze, nodding in reply. Before she could say anything else, she was nearly crushed by Yatsu’s massive arms. She patted him on the back softly until he released her, red-faced but smiling. “I’ll miss you too, Yatsu,” she said as he wiped his face and excused himself.

Then Hark stepped up, smiling as he shook her hand and then leaned in for a quick hug. “Thank you again for helping me out like you did, back when you didn’t even know me. I truly appreciate it.”

Blake laughed, almost incapable of equating the talented man before her with the helpless boy she’d saved from his own incompetence. “I’d say you’ve more than evened the score by now.”

“Still,” he said, placing a hand on her shoulder as he walked past to follow the others who had filed out. “Thank you. I won’t forget it.”

“You are very welcome.”

Coco looked at the few remaining, taking particular notice of Sun lingering in the corner. “Aqua, why don’t you go outside and help Yang plot out their trip?”

“I mean, ok,” the sapper replied, looking confused. “But why can’t I just do that in here?”

Coco looked at her pointedly. “I think the morning sun might be helpful. A little fresh air wouldn’t hurt either.”

Aqua frowned, but Blake saw Yang put the pieces together. She laughed and started toward the door. “You know,” she said. “I think some fresh air would do me some good. Come on, Aqua.” From the doorway, she looked back at Blake, smiling and tilting her head toward Sun. “Take your time.”

Coco shook her head as Yang led Aqua out into the hall. “At least one of them has some sense,” she muttered, then she looked up at Blake and Sun. “I’ll let you two have a minute.” With that, she sauntered out, doing a fantastic impersonation of someone who didn’t feel like hell.

Blake turned to Sun and was surprised to find him smiling. She started to speak but stopped as he did the same, both of them laughing awkwardly before lapsing back into silence. Finally, he told her to go ahead.

“Sun, I-” Blake started, her words catching in her throat. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to properly thank you.”

“No need,” he responded, waving her off. “Despite the whole ‘almost dying’ thing,” he said, grinning as he threw up ridiculous air quotes around what Blake considered a very serious event. “I had a lot of fun.”

“You have a very odd definition of fun,” Blake said, trying and mostly failing to match his levity.

“Hey,” Sun said, crossing the room and placing a warm hand on her shoulder until she looked up at him. “I’m fine, and I’ll always be glad our paths crossed, but I’m just as happy to see that you’re with who you’re supposed to be with.”

Blake looked into his eyes. There was sadness there, but there was also joy. “You might be the most genuinely good person that I’ve ever met.”

Sun laughed and rolled his eyes. “Don’t go spreading that around. I’ve got a reputation to uphold.”

Blake snorted a laugh as she pulled him into a hug. “Thank you, Sun.”

“You’re welcome, Blake.”

“Take care of yourself,” she said as they parted, brushing aside a stray tear from her cheek.

“Always. You and Yang do the same.”

“We will.”

They embraced one more time, Sun laughing lightly as they parted. “Don’t look so sad,” he said. “This isn’t goodbye. Just see you later.”

Blake smiled and nodded, but her voice was still slightly choked as she agreed. “Yeah, see you later.”

Sun strode toward the door, giving her a little wave as he went. Blake hoped that he was right, hoped that they would see each other again, and for once, she didn’t begrudge herself a little hope. With a deep sigh, she propelled herself out of the empty kitchen, turning the corner toward what she presumed was the backdoor, and found Coco waiting for her, leaned up against the smooth wall.

“How’s it going, heartbreaker?”

Blake glared at her. “That’s not funny.”

“I’m sorry,” Coco said, pushing off the wall and taking a moment to steady herself. “That was supposed to be funny, but once I heard it out loud, it sounded kind of shitty.”

Blake cocked her head, but the apology was sincere. “No worries. You probably shouldn’t even be standing right now, let alone trying to make jokes.”

Coco smiled, nodding her agreement. “Things all good with you and Sun?”

Blake looked back over her shoulder, but the hallway was empty. “Yeah, but only because he’s so amazing. You’d think that getting stabbed for a girl and then watching her ride off with someone else would make a guy bitter, but not Sun.”

“No,” Coco agreed. “He’s a pain in the ass but he’s the best of us.” Blake nodded. “So, I guess this is it.”

Blake looked at her and nodded. “Yeah. It seems I wore out my welcome in Mistral.”

“Maybe with the authorities, but not with us.”

Blake smiled. “Thanks. And thank you for…well, everything. You didn’t have to do all that you did for me, or put up with my shit like you did, but…well, thanks.”

Coco shook her head, then pulled Blake in for a hug. Blake returned it, holding up the wobbling woman’s weight for a moment before they parted. “No, Blake. Thank you. I’ll never forget what you did for my team or me. Ever.” They looked at each other for a moment, their silence speaking more than their words. Then Coco smiled her easy smile, nodding her head toward the door. “Come on. You need to get out of here before someone comes back and starts the whole goodbye process all over again.” Blake laughed and followed her to the door, shielding her eyes as they stepped out into the golden morning to join Yang and Aqua.

“You should definitely apply!” Yang insisted.

“I guess…I don’t know,” Aqua mumbled.

“Give me your scroll.” The sapper hemmed and hawed but handed it over. “I’m giving you Pyrrha Nikos’s contact information. She works in my lab and is one of my best friends in the world. Talk to her; that’s all I’m asking. No application, nothing like that, just talk to her.”

Aqua accepted her scroll back with a shy smile. “Ok, fine. I’ll talk to her if it will make you happy.”

Yang beamed. “It will.”

Aqua noticed that they weren’t alone and shook her head as she put away her scroll. “Ok, partner, time for you to get out of here.”

Yang followed her eyes, then nodded. “Looks like it.”

The two hugged, clapping each other on the back and promising to see each other again, and then parted. In one long stride, Aqua reached Blake and snatched her up into a firm embrace, lifting her clear off her feet before setting her back down. “You’ve got a good one there,” she said. “Hang onto her.”

“I intend to,” Blake assured her.

Aqua nodded, squeezing Blake’s shoulder. “I’ll miss you, Blake.”

“You too, Aqua. Take care.”

Aqua nodded silently and strode off toward the house, leaving the three of them alone. As the door shut behind her, Coco extended a hand to Yang, who carefully took it in her own, damaged as it was. “You’re a hell of a woman, Yang, and a hell of an asset. I’ll be sad to see you go. If you ever get the itch to go into our line of work, let me know; I’ll always have a spot on my team for you.”

Yang smiled but shook her head. “I think I’ve had my fill of the cloak and dagger gig, at least for now. Thanks, though.”

“That’s fair,” Coco said with a light chuckle. “But do let me know if you change your mind.”

“I will.”

Coco released her grip and turned to Blake, considering her for a moment before holding out her hand again. Blake accepted it. Coco’s grip was firm and solid, and she grabbed Blake’s shoulder with her free hand in much the same way. “I can never thank you enough for what you did here, Blake,” she said, her voice heavy with emotion as her eyes bored into Blake’s skull. “You didn’t just save me. You didn’t just save the kingdom and possibly the world. You saved my team, my people. That is a debt that I can never repay.”

“Coco, I-“

“No, don’t deny it or downplay it.” Coco was so earnest that all Blake could do was nod. Coco smiled, her lips tight. “Good. I want you to know that if you ever need anything, and I mean anything, you need only ask. I’ll be there, no questions, no conditions, no exceptions.” The offer and its myriad of implications left Blake dumbstruck, but eventually, she nodded again. Coco held her for a moment longer, hand and shoulder, then let both drop, the tension between them dissipating in the same moment. “You two take care of each other.”

Yang stepped up next to Blake. “We will.”

“I believe that.” Coco smiled as she looked between the two of them. “Did Aqua give you directions to Tsubaki?” Yang nodded. “Good.” Coco took a deep breath and wiped at something on her face that she would no doubt claim was a spec of dust. “Then get going. I don’t want to hear a report tonight about how Mistral police got their hands on a former White Fang terrorist and her smokin’ hot accomplice.”

Yang burst out laughing while Blake shook her head, a smile on her lips. “Ok, ok. We’re going.” She looked up one more time at Coco’s face, still bruised and scratched but no less striking than ever. “Goodbye, Coco.”

“Until next time, Blake.”

With nothing else to say, they left.

\--

“So, Tsubaki?” Blake asked as she led them through the streets. Even though it would take a little longer, she was opting for the exterior stairs. She found herself strangely sad to go now that she was finally free to leave the city she had cursed for so many months, and wanted to take one last look.

Yang nodded. “Yup, apparently, it’s the nearest place where we can catch a ship headed to Menagerie.”

“Sounds perfect,” Blake mused as they walked along. “How far is it?”

“A day, maybe a day and a half of riding. Depending on conditions.”

“We might have to camp out.”

“That ok with you, princess?”

Blake chuckled at the gentle barb. “I’ve probably slept under the stars more times than you.”

“In your misspent youth?”

“Yeah.” Blake rolled her eyes, her laughter fading. “In my misspent youth.” They reached the railing by the stairs and stopped to look out at the lower half of the city and the valley below. The breeze cascading up the side of the mountain swept the last of the prior night’s revelries from her foggy mind, leaving just a bit of a headache as a reminder but clearing her thoughts enough to bring back a niggling doubt. “Yang?” she asked, looking over at her. “Are you sure?”

Yang looked back, confused. “About what?”

“Coming with me, running from your life and-“

“I’m not running from my life.” Yang interrupted.

Blake started. “What?”

Yang looked at her, that shining smile driving away her shadowy doubts. “I’m running with my life.” Blake blushed and sputtered, which only made Yang laugh. “Blake, you can ask me that question as many different ways as you like. I’m coming with you, that’s my final decision. Period.”

Blake swallowed but met her gaze. There was no denying the intensity there, the simple, unshakable certainty. “You are truly remarkable, you know that?” she sighed.

“Yeah, I know,” Yang chirped. “That’s why you love me.”

Blake laughed, a wild laugh full of relief and release, a laugh that carried on until there were tears in her eyes that she couldn’t fully explain and didn’t care to. “It is one of the reasons,” she agreed, wiping her eyes.

Yang wrapped her in an embrace, still beaming. “What are the others?”

“If I tell you all at once, you’ll just get a big head about it,” Blake quipped.

Then they were laughing and kissing and holding each other, overwhelmed by their joy that despite everything, they were somehow together. When they had finally collected themselves, Yang gestured toward the staircase heading up. “Shall we go to the hangar, get my bike, and hit the road?”

“If we’re going to be roughing it tonight, we might want to get supplies first,” Blake suggested.

“True,” Yang said with a shrug. “Where to?”

A thought occurred to Blake. “What day is it?”

“Uh,” Yang took out her scroll, squinting down at it. “Man, I completely lost track of time. It’s…Saturday.”

Blake smiled. “Follow me.”

Yang looked up at her, her eyes glinting. “Anywhere.”

\--

The market was already bustling, despite the early hour. Blake reflected on the fact that most of the cheery faces around her had not spent the night before drinking like they had only narrowly avoided the end of the world. She cursed them for their foresight. They stopped at a handful of booths as she led them toward their destination, grabbing cheese and small loaves of bread and a few other provisions that they could cram in their bags, as well as stopping for tea and coffee to go as they passed one of the many little cafes.

Finally, they stood before the fishmonger’s booth, where Blake could hear voices and motion from behind a stack of crates laden with ice and fish. “Mr. Ebis?” she called.

“Fiona, dear?” he called, his muffled voice coming from the back. “One moment!”

As she listened to him fuss and work his way toward the front, Blake caught her reflection in the window of a nearby building. Her heart sank as she realized she had only ever come in her wig and contacts and that she would likely be completely unrecognizable. As the fishmonger pottered out toward her, she stammered an explanation. “Mr. Ebis…it’s uh, me...”

He looked up from wiping his hands on his apron, paused for a beat, then smiled broadly. “I know it’s you, my dear. I would know that musical voice anywhere. I like what you’ve done with your hair,” he said, his eyes twinkling as he took her in. “And your eyes.”

Blake’s smiled and shook her head, wondering as she always had if she understood the little fishmonger at all. “Thank you,” she managed. “I…I’ve come to say goodbye.”

“I know, my dear. I knew as soon as I walked out.”

Blake looked at him. “How?”

Mr. Ebis smiled a sage’s smile. “You were always going to leave Mistral, but you were waiting for something; or someone.” He nodded over her shoulder. “It seems she has arrived.”

Blake looked at Yang and smiled. “Yes, she has.”

“I appreciate you coming in person to break the news that we won’t be running away together. Such a thing would have been quite painful if delivered in a letter.”

Blake giggled at his sudden reversion to their old joke. “Of course, Mr. Ebis. It was the least I could do.”

Suddenly, the clear, rich voice of Sara rang out from the back, amongst the fish. “Are you teasing that poor girl again?”

“No, darling, of course not.”

There was the sound of a heavy knife being buried in wood, then Sara strode into view, also pausing for just a moment before smiling at Blake. “Hello, Fiona.” As an aside to her husband, she added, “I told you it was a wig.”

He waved her off. “Yes, yes, you’re very perceptive. Fiona was just saying goodbye.”

Sara looked up at her, glancing briefly at Yang. “So I see.”

“I also came to say thank you,” Blake added.

Sara shook her head, her hands still wiping the remains of her work off on her soiled apron. “For what, dear?”

“For showing me warmth and kindness. For making me feel known in a strange city when I was very much alone.” Blake choked up a bit but managed to swallow her tears, smiling instead. “For making me laugh every week, and for having the best fish in all of Mistral.”

“All of Remnant,” the fishmonger corrected with a grin. They all laughed as his deft remark lightened the mood, even Sara shaking her head and chortling at her husband’s antics.

“That may be so,” Blake agreed when her laughter had subsided.

Sara looked at her, then down at her husband. “Shiro, we can’t let them go empty-handed.”

“Quite right!” Mr. Ebis agreed, scampering behind the counter and pulling out a sheaf of thick paper. In a flash, he dug out a few pieces of fish and bundled them up, tying the packages with strong, brown twine. “Here you are!” he announced as he returned with his package.

“Oh, thank you, let me just-“ Blake began, reaching for her wallet.

“No,” Mr. Ebis said, pushing the package into her hands. “This is not for sale. It is a gift.”

“But-“

“No buts,” Sara declared.

Blake looked up at them, nearly at a loss. “I can never repay you for all that you’ve done for me.”

“There is no need, my dear.”

She looked around, then set her jaw. “Can I offer one thing?”

Mr. Ebis pursed his lips. “That depends. What is it?”

“A name,” Blake said, then looked down. “My name. My real name.”

Sara’s eyes widened, but she didn’t say anything. Mr. Ebis, meanwhile, nodded as though expecting her confession. “A name is a powerful thing. It should be given carefully.”

“I know,” Blake said, trying not to laugh or cry at receiving a warning that she did not need. “If anyone understands the weight of a name, it’s me.” She held out her hand. “Blake,” she said as Mr. Ebis grasped it in both of his. “Blake Belladonna.”

This, too, the fishmonger took in stride. “That is a weighty name indeed,” he replied. “Especially among the faunus. You carry it well, Blake.”

A single tear escaped the dam that Blake had been erecting, but otherwise, it held. “Thank you,” she whispered.

Mr. Ebis smiled, reaching up to place his hands, one each, on Blake and Yang’s shoulders. “Go with the blessing of the Brothers,” he said. “Be well.” Turning to Yang, he added. “You have quite a catch here, friend. Be sure to hold on to her.”

“I know,” Yang agreed. “I will.”

“The key,” he said, squeezing both of their shoulders lightly. “Is to hold just tight enough, but not too tight. Especially with one so wild and free.”

Yang nodded and looked over Blake. “I’ll remember that.”

“Do. Now go, both of you. I can feel the energy of a journey yet to begin on you and don’t want to keep you any longer.”

“Take care,” Sara added.

Blake looked at them one last time, the round little fishmonger and his tall, handsome wife. “Thank you, both of you. For everything.”

\--

The trek up to the hangar was quiet, but it was not cold or distant. The silence that hung between them was close and soothing and full of sly glances and shy smiles and little bumps and nudges and vaguely entwining fingers. It only took a few minutes to load their few possessions and cache of food into the saddlebags, then they pushed the bike silently through the streets to the big central elevator. As they rode amidst the merchant carts and various others taking the big lift down, Blake felt herself growing jumpy. A little voice in her head kept telling her that it couldn’t be that easy, that they had tarried too long, and someone was going to jump out at any minute and arrest them. But then she’d look up at Yang and see her confident smile, and all of that would go away. As the levels ticked by, she slowly began to believe.

Then, seemingly in a flash, they were back in the sunlight, and the bike was roaring to life while Yang smiled at her and held it steady. Blake took a breath and swung onto the seat, proud at how smoothly she executed the maneuver until Yang once again showed her how it was supposed to be done. She could only shake her head as the experienced rider flashed her a cheeky smile. As the engine revved, she leaned in close and wrapped her arms around the firm pillar of taught muscle and leather in front of her.

Then they were flying down the road, Blake barely registering the outskirts of Mistral blurring by. Instead, she spent the first few minutes enjoying the feeling of closeness as she burrowed into Yang’s neck, the wild mane of blonde hair flowing around her as they leaned and wove their way toward the open road. The motion and constant hum of the motor lulled Blake's exhausted mind into a happy trance, but she returned to herself when she felt Yang’s midsection pulse with laughter. She slowly loosened her grip, a chagrined smile on her face. 

“Thanks!” Yang called over her shoulder.

“Sorry,” Blake said into her ear. “Just getting comfy.” She felt, more than heard, Yang hum in reply, and sat up a bit higher to look around.

Somehow, they’d already worked their way to a country road running between enormous fields full of blooming crops. The change was so sudden and complete that Blake worried she had fallen asleep without realizing it. Turning back, she saw she hadn’t; they were only just emerging from the shadow of Mistral. Blake gazed up at the city, perched in, on, and around its twin peaks, gleaming down at her. She was surprised to feel a slight tug in her heart as she left it behind, missing what had felt like a prison for so long, but there it was. It had been a place of misery for her, but also one of revelation. She supposed she should resent the fact that by all rights, the city should be throwing her a parade right now and calling her a hero rather than seeking her arrest, but the people who mattered knew the truth. Turning forward again, she couldn’t help but smile. It was also the city that brought Yang back to her, and that was a gift that more than balanced out any wrong it might have done. Blake spared Mistral one more look, sending it her farewell and a quiet thank-you, then turned away from her past and toward her future.


	43. Epilogue: Ever After

Yang stood at the top of the gangplank, looking down at the bustling harbor of Kuo Kuana. Beyond the noisy crowd were neat homes tightly packed in rows and surrounded by palm trees that led up and over the hills that ringed the harbor. She breathed in the warm and salty air, accustomed to it now after days at sea, and did her best to acclimate to the sudden change from the quiet ship to the noisy crowd below.

A crowd entirely comprised of faunus.

Blake stepped up beside her, the elation and relief of one finally home after too long away dancing across her face. Yang’s heart sang to see her so happy, but her apprehension remained. She reached out until their fingers intertwined and leaned over. “Do I stand out as much as I think I stand out?”

Blake laughed, high and light. “You always stand out, my dear.”

“What does that mean?” Yang demanded.

Blake continued to chuckle as she explained, “You’re tall, blonde, drop-dead gorgeous, and have a robotic arm.” She shook her head as laughter overtook her again. “You don’t exactly blend in anywhere. That’s another one of the reasons I love you.”

Yang’s face went red, but then she laughed too. “That’s not what I was asking, and you know it.”

Blake sobered and looked around at her people, several of whom were openly staring at Yang. “Yes,” she admitted. “Even from a distance, everyone will know you’re human. And yes,” she offered before it was asked. “I can almost guarantee that you’re the only one on the island. But you belong with me, so you belong here.”

Yang nodded as Blake squeezed her hand, then followed her down onto solid ground. For a moment, she had worried that the happy bubble they’d inhabited since leaving Mistral was going to burst as her foot touched land, but it seemed as strong as ever. The ride through the southern plains of Anima had been pure magic, even if the second day they were both exhausted from staying up most of the night talking and stargazing. Then they had spent another three days wandering around Tsubaki, a quaint harbor town, while they waited for the next boat headed to Menagerie. The days had been hot and languid as they sought out things to do amidst the sleepy little village, and the nights had been warm and dark and full of far more passion than sleep. Then the ship (not the _Itinerant_ , much to Yang’s disappointment) with its largely empty decks that offered little to mar the beautiful silence of the open ocean beyond the churning of water around the hull and a steady breeze.

But Yang realized that it hadn’t been the silence or the solitude that had made their passage magical. It was the presence of the incredible woman standing beside her. What they had wasn’t a bubble; it wasn’t something fragile or ephemeral that would pop at the slightest disturbance. It was a current, a vortex of love and connection that seemed to rush around them, drawing them ever inward toward each other and largely ignoring any attempts by the world at large to interrupt the pull. She let the force of their love wash over her and suddenly didn’t feel so out of place.

They fetched Yang’s bike and their meager possessions, then made their way toward the main path leading into the heart of the village. It led up a gentle grade, eventually peaking at the top of a low hill to reveal the rest of the village below. They stopped at the top; Blake, no doubt, to feel the rush of nostalgia, while Yang enjoyed the thrill of discovery. Looking over, she wondered what memories Blake might be wading through behind her wistful half-smile. But then Blake’s happy nostalgia faded, and a shadow of worry fell across her eyes.

Yang knew that look; it had cropped up time and again as they journeyed south. Blake was terrified of how her family would receive her after so long, and no amount of reassurance was going to soothe her fears. There was only one real cure. “Come on,” Yang urged. “I think it’s time you went home.” She looked out over the long rows of small white houses, all constructed from the trees that still lined every path and street. They were mostly modest in size and roughly square, no more than a story or sometimes two, and raised on wooden legs to make way, Yang assumed, for seasonal flooding. “Which one is yours?”

Blake’s face went red, and she raised her hand to point. Given the density of the homes along the rolling hills, Yang wasn’t sure she’d be able to pick it out but when she turned to follow Blake’s finger, her eyes landed on the only house it could be and went wide. “There?” she asked, looking back at Blake in disbelief.

“Uh-huh,” Blake affirmed, her lips tight.

Yang laughed, long and hard, then looked back at the massive structure. It lay dead center along the wide path, so much so that Yang realized it was the primary destination of it. It was far and away the largest building in the entire village. “I knew you seemed like a princess,” Yang said between fits of laughter.

“I’m not a princess,” Blake hissed, looking around to make sure no one was staring. “My dad is the chief of Kuo Kuana.”

Yang brushed away a tear, still chuckling to herself. “Oh man, that’s almost as good.” She took a breath to compose herself, biting back another laugh as Blake glared at her. “Well,” she said, gesturing broadly with one hand. “Shall we?” Blake rolled her eyes and stomped off down the hill, Yang smiling and carefully pushing her bike after her.

Blake grew visibly tenser as they walked. Even from behind, Yang could see her anxiety swirling around her, could almost hear the litany of fears she’d confessed in the dark hours of the night during their travels. That they would reject her, hate her, blame her for crimes both real and imagined. Yang had assured her that they wouldn’t, but as she propped her bike up on its stand and climbed the grand wooden staircase toward the enormous front door to wait beside Blake, she couldn’t help but feel the slightest bit of trepidation.

With one last heave of a sigh, Blake reached up and grasped the enormous knocker. She raised it with a sharp pull, then let it fall to announce their presence with a deep and resonant thud. For a long moment, they were greeted by only silence. “Ok,” Yang said. “That was pretty intimidating-“

Then the door opened, and a middle-aged faunus woman who could not have more obviously been related to Blake opened the door. Her golden eyes, so much like her daughters, went wide as she stared at them, mouth agape and dark ears standing perfectly erect atop her head. She took one hesitant step forward, then threw her arms around her wayward daughter. “Blake? By the gods. Blake, is it really you?”

“It’s me, Mom,” Blake assured her, closing her eyes and leaning down into the embrace. “I’m home.”

Her mother stepped back, holding on to her shoulders as she looked up at her. “Gods, you’re a woman now. When did that happen?” she murmured, mostly to herself. Then her eyes went wide again, and she turned back into the house. “Ghira!” she called. “Come see who’s here!”

She smiled broadly, still holding tight to Blake’s shoulders and staring up at her as the thumping of two large feet approached. Yang craned her neck to look up at the man she could only assume was Blake’s father, though he hadn’t passed on any of his height or breadth to his daughter. Dressed in an open jacket that showed off a well-built torso, Ghira looked less like a bureaucrat than someone Yang may have once faced in the ring, though the small glasses he pulled off his nose as he rubbed his tired eyes ruined the effect somewhat. “Who is it, Kali…? Blake!” he exclaimed as he opened his eyes. “You’re home!” Then he was scooping both her and his wife up into his massive arms, all three of them laughing and crying and holding each other, with Blake trying to explain but mostly just repeating how much she’d missed them, and her parents readily agreeing.

Yang stood quietly aside, wiping aside a few stray tears of her own as she saw relief and happiness wash over Blake’s face. She didn’t mind that she hadn’t yet been noticed; this moment wasn’t about her. If there were thoughts of her own, far less warm, reunion with a parent flashing through her mind, one could hardly blame her, but she didn’t let those make her bitter or jealous. She was too busy being overjoyed for the woman she loved to wallow in despair.

Eventually, Ghira released them, though the laughter and tears continued. It was Kali who turned and remembered their guest. She stepped over to Yang, wiping her face and extending her hand. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to ignore you,” she said.

“Please,” Yang assured her. “Don’t apologize. I understand.”

Kali looked up at her and beamed. “I see that you do.” Her gaze became slightly more penetrating as she asked over her shoulder, “Blake, who did bring home?”

Blake turned from one parent to the other. “Mom, Dad,” she said, smiling but still seeming to brace herself. “This is my girlfriend, Yang.”

Yang tensed, but Blake’s declaration was met with nothing but warmth. “So she is,” Kali agreed, leaning in and giving her a brief hug.

Ghira seemed slightly more surprised but extended his hand in turn, his smile genuine. “It’s lovely to meet you, Yang.”

“Likewise,” she said, careful to moderate the pressure of her still-damaged hand as they shook.

Ghira looked down as he felt her palm against his. “Something tells me you two have plenty of interesting stories to tell,” he offered, raising his eyes.

Yang grinned. “We sure do.”

“Well, why don’t you come inside and tell them?” Kali offered, ushering everyone through the wide door. “I’ll put on some tea.”

The house was as big inside as out. After dutifully leaving her boots at the door, Yang was led through wide hallways to a modest room with a low table in its center surrounded by cushions. Something about the space seemed to remind Blake of all that had passed between herself and her parents, and the otherwise pleasant flow of conversation faltered. It was only by her second cup of tea that she found her voice again, and Yang chimed in from time to time with added details as she relayed her long tale. Her parents listened, worry and compassion and understanding written across their faces as they took it all in.

When Blake got to their necessary flight from Mistral, she slumped. “I know it’s unfair to ask after leaving like I did, after being away for so long, but…can we stay here? Just for now, until I can clear my name?”

Ghira looked at Kali, who nodded emphatically at him. “Blake, of course you can stay.” He looked at Yang to let her know she was included in his invitation. “You both are welcome here for as long as you need.”

“Why?” Blake burst out.

“What?” Ghira asked, dumbfounded.

“Why are you being so nice to me? After the things I said, the things I did, I don’t deserve any of this. You should hate me!”

Ghira got up and stepped around the table, kneeling by Blake’s side and pulling her into his arms. “You are our daughter,” he said, his voice steady and sure. “We could never hate you. We were just scared that you would go down the wrong path, that’s all.”

“But I did! I did-“

“And you pulled yourself out, more than pulled yourself out: you fought to stop the White Fang from harming others. Not many have that kind of strength.” He patted her head, then leaned back so he could look her in the eye. “Your mother and I are so proud of you, and we are so glad to have you back.”

They finished their tea in comfortable silence, Blake looking back and forth between her parents with a mix of gratitude and relief and disbelief in her eyes, and each time Kali or Ghira would reach out and squeeze her hand and offer a small reassurance.

When they were finished, Blake asked if they should use her old room. Her parents nodded, and she excused Yang and herself and deftly picked her way through the halls until they reached a large room in the corner of the house. Yang looked around in fascination as she slid the door shut behind them, but there was little in the way of memorabilia, at least at first glance. Blake followed her eyes. “Yeah, we were on the road so much before my dad became Chief, and even somewhat after, that I didn’t really have a lot of stuff. Except, of course, for books.”

Yang looked again and laughed when she realized what she hadn’t seen at first. Every wall was inlaid with shelves, and every shelf was packed with so many books that the leather spines had looked like an odd sort of wallpaper. The only places she could see not occupied by books were the windows, what she assumed was a closet, and the door to the balcony she recalled Blake describing. “This makes so much sense,” Yang said, smiling as she reached out and ran her hand along the nearest shelf.

Blake laughed and shed her coat, tossing it on a nearby chair. “Yeah, yeah.” Her pants followed close behind. “I’m exhausted. Interested in a nap?” Yang grinned, and she scoffed. “An actual nap,” she said, smiling and rolling her eyes.

Yang looked at her, seeing fatigue in her eyes that wasn’t just about lack of sleep, and nodded. “Yeah,” she said. “A nap sounds good.” A moment later, after shucking her own clothes, she lay in bed, one arm wrapped around Blake, the other resting on a table across the room. She watched as Blake nestled into her and promptly fell asleep, smiling to herself all the while. Yang didn't think she'd be able to sleep and instead contented herself to watch the gentle rise and fall of Blake's breathing. At some point, though, exhaustion snuck up on her, and before she knew what was happening, she’d fallen into the gentle embrace of sleep.

\--

Blake opened her eyes to what felt like a new world. She was home, a place she never thought she’d see again, and she had been welcomed with open arms. She was curled up against the woman of her dreams, someone she'd thought would never forgive her but had instead followed her across Remnant, just so they didn’t have to be apart. She had spent so long running, so long hiding, but here in Menagerie, she could walk free and use her name.

She pinched herself, but she was awake. She grinned and got out of bed to watch the sun set over the ocean, taking in the vivid pinks and reds and golds that blanketed the horizon in a way she was convinced was unique to her home. Soon after, a knock sounded at her door, and her mother announced dinner. Blake roused Yang and dressed, then practically ran down the hall, a surge of childish energy she hadn’t felt in years flooding her body.

Dinner was every dish she’d longed for since she left, and she almost had to crawl back to bed once it was finally through. Despite only just waking, she fell instantly into a deep and dreamless sleep, the warm presence of Yang at her side adding to the unfamiliar but not unwelcome sense of safety and security.

The next morning she rose long after the sun, alone in bed. She cast her eyes around the room, confirmed it empty, then got up and threw on clothes from a decade prior that she found in her old dresser. She padded out into the hall and toward the sound of voices, smiling sheepishly when she found Yang and her mother chatting animatedly in the living room. She took the teasing she received for sleeping so late in good spirits as she sat and asked what they were talking about, drawing uproarious laughter from both of them.

“We definitely weren’t discussing embarrassing stories from your childhood,” Yang lied, doing a poor job of hiding her grin.

Blake shot a look at her mom, who was also failing to conceal the twinkle in her eyes. “Mom!” she scolded, which only drew another round of hysterics. In truth, Blake couldn’t actually be mad, and soon even she was laughing along as her mother recounted silly stories from her youth.

When she’d exhausted her stock of favorites, her mom looked up at them. “It’s a beautiful day. Why don’t you show Yang around?”

Blake nodded. “I was kind of thinking we might go to the beach.”

“Sounds good to me, though I didn’t exactly have time to pack a swimsuit,” Yang said with a laugh.

Blake shrugged, climbing to her feet and offering her hand, which Yang took. “I’m sure we’ll find you something. You want to come, Mom?”

Kali looked between the two girls with her knowing smile. “No, why don’t you two go have some time together. I have errands I need to run anyway.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, dear,” her mom replied, shooing them out.

Back in her room, they rummaged through her drawers, searching for old bathing suits. “So what were you and my mom talking about before I came out, other than embarrassing stories about me?” Blake asked.

Yang smiled to herself. “Nothing, really. I was just telling her about how we met and things like that. I may have gushed about you a bit.”

“I’m sure my mom loved that,” Blake remarked, feeling a bubbling in her chest at the image. “I’m glad you two seemed to get along. I thought you might.”

“Parents love me,” Yang quipped.

“You are very lovable.”

“Oh, am I?” she goaded.

Blake stepped over to her, pulling her into a deep kiss, then locking eyes with her as they parted. “Yes,” she said, her voice low earnest. “You are.”

Yang grinned, and they went back to rifling through old clothes. Blake eventually pulled out an old one-piece, surprising herself when she put it on and found it mostly fit. “Thank the Brothers I was almost fully grown at fourteen,” she muttered. “Did you find anything?”

She turned to look at Yang, and her jaw dropped. She had squeezed into an old golden bikini that Blake had thought was a good idea at the time but was in no way made for the body it was currently trying and failing to contain. “What do you think?” Yang asked, raising her eyebrows and cocking one very exposed hip.

“You cannot wear that in public.”

Yang pretended to look hurt. “Why? Everything is-“ she looked down and checked. “Technically covered.”

“You are unbelievable.”

“Do you have anything else?”

Blake looked around. She didn’t. “We are going shopping as soon as possible.”

Yang grinned. “I don’t know, I kind of like it.”

Blake shook her head, trying to stop herself from actively drooling. “If you didn’t stand out before, you sure will now. Let’s go.”

Towels and sunblock and books in tow, they walked down the nearby path to the beach. Blake was surprised that Yang had opted to leave her arm behind, risk of sand getting in the broken plating or no, but was happy to see how comfortable she seemed even without it. Blake was less happy to find herself continually tripping over various objects as she gawped at the vast expanse of skin Yang was showing off.

The pair settled in and spent the day lazing about in the sun and occasionally running into the ocean to splash around and cool off, Blake beside herself to finally be able to share this part of her life with Yang for real. When the sun started to creep toward the horizon, they trekked back to the house to shower off and rejoin Blake’s parents for dinner.

So began a pleasant rhythm, with Blake and Yang spending their days out exploring the island, or mostly just laying around on the beach, then coming back to talk and eat and be with her family. Occasionally Blake would go off with one or both of her parents for long walks or private talks, chances to reconnect and make up for lost time. Yang always quietly made herself scarce whenever necessary, but for the most part, they were attached at the hip.

Blake was worried that the villagers might be hostile toward Yang and kept on eye on the suspicious glances she got whenever they went out. Her constant presence at Yang’s side prevented any open comments, and in time it seemed that everyone grew accustomed to having her around, if not exactly thrilled about it. It helped her case that the village children adored her. Initially, they had simply been curious, but when one of them had crept close enough to get a good look at her mechanical arm, word had spread to the other kids that the strange human lady was a cyborg. Suddenly, she was the most exciting thing on the island. The first to gather the courage to approach her was rewarded by being allowed to touch it, and after that, the parents had no hope of keeping them away.

It wasn’t just her arm, though. Blake marveled as she watched Yang interact with every child with kindness and seemingly infinite patience. Something about it left a tingling warmth in the pit of her stomach. She couldn’t help but melt a little as she watched Yang kneel down and answer the questions of another curious child as though everything she asked was the most brilliant and insightful question Yang had ever heard.

The parents took notice as well, and soon suspicion and grudging acceptance turned to a sort of cautious friendliness. The people of Kuo Kuana weren’t about to welcome all humans with open arms, but this one seemed alright. Blake thought she was more than alright. She quietly noted that her way with children was yet another reason she loved her but decided to wait to tell her until she found a way to do so without it sounding like a suggestion.

Weeks went by, and Blake hardly stopped to note their passage. She was perfectly content to let things continue as they were. Her biggest concern on any given day was where to go for lunch in between hiking and lying around on the beach with her beautiful girlfriend. Hard to complain about that. She almost forgot that she was wanted in four kingdoms as a terrorist, or indeed that she had ever had a life beyond her current, idyllic routine. It wasn’t until a large crate showed up on their doorstep and she read the label that she recalled the outside world existed at all. “Yang,” she called back into the house. “It’s for you.”

Yang walked up behind her, looking at the box that rose nearly to her chest. “Oh!” she exclaimed, recognition in her eyes. “It’s from the gang.” Blake cocked her head. “I wrote Ruby a letter when we got here, then decided to write to everyone. I guess this was their response.” Reaching out with her right hand, she prized the top off, looking down at the mass of packing peanuts before digging in with her left and coming out with a big envelope that she tore open. After reading a bit, she laughed and shook her head. “Pyrrha told Dr. Polendina everything, naturally, and rather than being upset, he was thrilled. I mentioned in my letter that the arm was damaged, so he had them use the rest of my grant money, and no doubt some of his own, to make replacement parts. He said if I can fix it and prepare my dissertation, he’d be happy to give me notes via mail until I can go back and defend for my degree.”

“Yang, that’s amazing!”

Yang looked down at the crate, a small smile on her face. “Yeah, I…I had almost forgotten this is what I’d been working on for so long. I guess it didn’t feel important in the middle of, you know, everything.”

Blake reached out and grasped her shoulder, giving her a little shake. “Yang, this is incredible. You’ve worked so hard for this and should be really proud.”

Yang beamed at her. “You think?”

“Yes, you should,” Blake assured. “And for the record, I am incredibly proud of you.”

“I…thanks,” Yang said, her face reddening. “I guess we should bring this inside so I can get to work.”

Together they dragged it into the house, and the sound it made as it scraped on well-worn wood was that of a large mechanical clock, long stopped but slowly grinding its way back into motion.

\--

Blake’s parents had been happy to clear a guest room for Yang to use as a workspace, and after she’d unpacked the tools and supplies she’d been sent, she got to it. At first, she needed a great deal of help from Blake. Repairing her arm and swapping out the damaged pieces for the shiny replacements was an arduous task and one that required at least two hands. Blake was dextrous and quick to learn, but she still felt awkward and ungainly as she dutifully followed Yang’s patient instructions and manipulated the tiny components within the exposed recesses of the disassembled arm. They still took time to lounge on the beach and explore the village and surrounding jungle, but much of each day and late into each evening, they worked, slowly rebuilding the majority of the prosthetic.

Blake found herself reinvigorated by having a goal. She had needed to rest and recover—as far as she could remember, she hadn’t taken anything resembling a vacation in her entire adult life—but watching Yang hard at work and helping her where possible reminded Blake that she wasn’t one to lay around for long.

Then the day finally came, and Yang braced herself as she remounted her arm. Blake fretted when they activated the connection, but other than a quick tensing of her shoulders, Yang showed no sign that it had gone poorly. Then she grinned and turned her hand over, wiggling her fingers and examining the shining new exterior. The pieces that had been sent to her were just as vividly painted as the original, and, according to Yang, just as strong. It was loud and ostentatious and powerful, and to Blake’s mind so perfectly matched to its owner that it almost seemed more natural than the flesh and blood it had replaced.

All that was left now was to write the paper, and Blake wasn’t going to be able to help her with that. So that night at dinner, after her parents admired the work she and Yang had done, she set down her utensils and cleared her throat. “I think,” she began when all eyes turned on her. “I think it’s time I got a job.” Her mother assured her that she didn’t need to rush out and do anything until she was ready, while her father said he could look into positions in the local government offices. Blake shook her head. “Thank you, both of you. But this is something I need to do. On my own,” she specified, smiling her thanks to her father. Yang reached out and took her hand, giving it a quick squeeze. She understood, as always, and Blake loved her all the more for it. Later that night, she made sure to express that feeling. Repeatedly.

\--

The next day, while Yang sat down to read over her notes and begin compiling her work, Blake went out and bought herself something professional to wear. After modeling it for Yang and receiving resounding approval, she set off for Kuo Kuana’s dense downtown, aiming straight for the building that housed the local newspaper. When the Editor in Chief’s assistant heard her name, he did a double-take, then hurried back to fetch his boss. Blake was immediately ushered in for a meeting, and after presenting her somewhat difficult to explain writing credentials, all under a different name, was surprised to immediately be offered a job.

“This is because of my dad, isn’t it?” she asked.

The editor considered her for a time. “Do you want the job or not?” she asked finally, not denying it.

Blake looked at the woman, a harried old faunus in a rumpled shirt and loose tie, and thought about it. “I do,” she admitted. “But I don’t want to be started at the top. I want to earn my way up.”

The older woman nodded. “I can respect that, and I happen to have an opening for someone new. Might be boring if these pieces you showed me are your work, but it will give you a chance to advance on your own merit.”

“Sounds perfect,” Blake said. “Thank you.” She was more than a little tired of starting at the bottom and working her way up, but it beat dealing with accusations of nepotism. She shook the woman’s hand and was told to talk to her assistant, then waved out of the office. Blake thanked her again and then walked out and explained the situation to the man outside.

The next week she was tracking down people to interview for fluff pieces about gardening tips in sandy soil and how best to handle the numerous critters that liked to creep in and make a meal out of recently planted turnips. It wasn’t terribly exciting on its face, but it felt good to be back on the job. Once she was done getting quotes and sympathetically examining ruined flowerbeds she turned in five hundred words she was reasonably proud of. The junior editor who looked it over gave her a few cursory edits and then handed it back. Before she left for the night, she’d had her first by-line carrying her real name.

That evening she and Yang went down to the beach. As they discussed the work they’d done that day, Blake found herself imagining identical nights stretched out ahead of her for years to come and thrilled at the idea. She had always taken pride in her work, enjoyed it even, but there was something special about coming back to Yang to swap stories about the minutiae of their days, of the tiny struggles and roadblocks and successes. No life and death decisions, no world on the line, just a normal day.

It was magic, and Blake wanted to feel that magic for the rest of her life. The instant that thought occurred to her, it set something in motion in the back of her mind, something she couldn’t shake, but something she wasn’t ready to spring into action. Not quite yet.

Weeks turned into months, and Blake quickly worked her way up into more and more interesting stories, earning assignments on beats that included local and global events. No one at the paper questioned why; her pieces were insightful and well-researched, with a fresh perspective and solid grounding in first-hand experience. The first time she made the front page, Yang and her family threw her a little party, making a big deal of framing the article and hanging it up with all the others that Yang had collected and pinned to a corkboard Kali had found for her. Yang insisted on mounting it next to the very first, the silly little piece about gardening, and Blake beamed as Yang hammered the nail into the wall and hung her story on renewed diplomatic talks between kingdoms, including Atlas’s promise to rebuild Beacon Tower.

Blake knew the time for her plan was fast approaching, but something stayed her hand. She had already talked to her parents, and both had approved immediately, not that she was surprised, but still, she waited. Every time they went down to the beach and watched the sunset, she considered it. But she always held back.

Until she didn’t.

\--

Winter in Menagerie wasn’t like the rest of Remnant. Even Vacuo got reasonably chilly for a few months, but not the southern continent. The only difference was that at midday, you could stand in the sun and not necessarily break a sweat, and most would wear light jackets at night down by the water.

Not Yang, of course.

Even when they stayed outside most of the night on the Solstice, she had worn a t-shirt, reassuring everyone that the giant bonfire was plenty for her and that it still honestly felt like early fall. She only ever carried her jacket so she could offer it to Blake, and for her part, Blake seemed to leave hers home most of the time in hopes of just such an offer. It was a comfortable routine, and it gave Yang a chance to wrap her arms around Blake and murmur in her ear that she loved her as they walked around town, so she wasn’t going to complain.

They still spent most afternoons at the beach, though even Yang didn’t venture into the chilly water. She still insisted on wearing the ill-fitting golden bikini, but only because she enjoyed how red Blake’s face got every time she did. Besides, it matched her spotless new arm perfectly.

Her dissertation was all but complete. She had already received the first round of edits from Pietro and shipped off a data chip with the newest update along with letters to Ruby and all of her friends. It had been difficult being away from them for so long, especially during the holidays, but it had been worth it to finally have so much uninterrupted time with Blake. The Belladonnas had offered to send her home for the Solstice, but Yang had declined. It was the first time she’d ever missed the Solstice with her family, but she quietly hoped they would be able to alternate once Blake was free to leave Menagerie without fear of incarceration. Besides, she could see how badly Blake needed the time with her family.

She looked over at Blake, unsurprised to find she had her nose in a book, as usual. Yang had quickly read everything Blake had thrown her way, but she couldn’t match Blake’s voraciousness. Sometimes she would just watch her read, enjoying the way the story seemed to draw her in.

As Yang watched her now, she noticed that Blake was chewing her lip. It was a nervous habit and one that she’d seen crop up more often recently, though she couldn’t seem to figure out what it was about. Blake denied it whenever she asked, and Kali had simply smiled at her and shaken her head, telling her she would know when it was time. Ghira had no idea, but if he had, he would have said. Yang was reasonably sure about that, as the big man had instantly taken to her. So instead of speaking up, she observed, wondering what was going on in that beautiful head. She nearly jumped off of her towel when her scroll buzzed, and it took her a moment to realize that she should answer. No one had called her since she arrived. Everyone she knew was in Beacon-

“Oh shit!” she exclaimed, startling Blake as she pulled out her scroll. “Ruby!”

“Yaaaaang!” her sister cried out in reply. “Oh my gods, it’s so good to hear your voice!”

“You too! Does this mean the tower is fixed?!”

“It is! They just turned it on today, hold on, let me turn it on video.” Yang pulled the scroll away from her ear, and after a moment, Ruby’s face appeared onscreen. “Aaaah, hi!” Ruby yelled. Then she frowned. “Are you naked?”

Yang laughed as Blake slid over next to her and responded. “No, this is her version of clothed.”

“Hi, Blake!” Ruby chirped. “It’s good to see you! And sorry for my sister, she cannot be trusted to be appropriate.”

“No,” Blake laughed as Yang stuck her tongue out. “She cannot.”

“Oh! Weiss and the others are here too.” Ruby turned the camera to face the room, revealing the entire crew from Vale. “Say hi, everyone.”

Several voices called out at once, creating a joyful jumble of unintelligible greetings, and Blake and Yang grinned and responded.

Then Weiss reached out and snatched the scroll, pulling it in until she dominated the screen. “Blake, have you asked yet?”

Yang whipped her head around to stare at Blake, who shrunk into her shoulders and coughed. “Um, no, Weiss, I haven’t. I thought I told you and Ruby in my letters that I was waiting for the right time.”

“Asked me what?” Yang demanded, then narrowed her eyes and looked at her scroll. “I don’t like that you two have been conspiring behind my back.”

“Trust me,” Weiss deadpanned. “You’ll like this.” Then to Blake. “I think this is the perfect time, don’t you? Should be right around sunset in Menagerie. The weather looks ideal, too.”

“You planned this, didn’t you?” Blake accused.

Weiss looked extremely smug. “I thought you could use a little push. I’m going to set the scroll down so we can all see. Could you prop yours up or something?”

Blake’s face went crimson as the screen jostled into position, eventually revealing a very expectant crowd of friends. She looked over at Yang.

“Blake,” she said slowly. “What’s going on?”

“Could you, um,” Blake began, swallowing with some difficulty. “Could you just prop your scroll up in the sand for a second?”

Yang narrowed her eyes but did as she was told, wedging the device down so it stayed upright. “Ok,” she said.

“And just…just stand there.” Yang stood as Blake fumbled in the small bag she carried everywhere, eventually producing something that she hid in the palm of her hand as she turned to face her. “I…Yang,” she said, clearing her throat. “I just love you so much,” she croaked, breaking out into a visible sweat.

“I love you too,” Yang responded, her eyes narrowing further as she looked down at the quiet group on her scroll, then back at the floundering woman in front of her. Suddenly the months of odd glances and nervous lip biting clicked into place. Her eyes went wide, and her hands flew to her mouth. “Oh gods!” she exclaimed, her eyes lighting up. 

The crew in Vale cheered as Blake took a deep breath and knelt in the sand. “Yang Xiao Long, will you make me the happiest woman on Remnant, and be my wife-“

“Yes! Yes! Obviously, yes!” Yang cried, tackling her to the sand. There they laughed and held each other and intermittently made out until a distant voice interrupted them. “For Brother’s sake, Yang, let her give you the blasted ring!”

Yang laughed as she climbed to her feet, helping Blake up as well. “Sorry, Weiss. Didn’t mean to ruin your perfect moment.” Both of them brushed the sand off each other and smiled sheepishly, then Blake returned to one knee and produced a small box, opening it to reveal a simple golden band. Laughing and crying at the same time, Yang held out her hand, and Blake slipped the perfectly-fitted ring onto her finger. Another cheer went up from her scroll, and Blake rose and kissed her again.

“I love you so much,” Blake murmured, her lips so close that Yang could feel her forming the words.

“I love you too,” she replied.

After what had apparently been the appropriate amount of time, they heard the distinct sound of throat-clearing from somewhere near their feet. Yang laughed and scooped up the scroll, waving her newly encircled finger at the crew and smiling broadly. “Yes, Weiss?”

Her friend smiled, clearly enjoying her handiwork. “It’s time for your engagement present.”

“That seems a little presumptuous,” Yang snarked.

“Do you want it, or not?”

“I’ll never say no to a gift.”

Weiss nodded. “I thought not. I hope you don’t mind that it’s technically for Blake.”

Blake shot her a look. “What do you mean?”

Weiss looked aside. “Jaune?”

“I took a position with the Faunus Civil Liberties Union.”

“That’s great, congrats!” Yang chimed in.

“Thanks!” he replied, beaming. “And I may have lobbied to have them take up your case, and well, they think it’s a slamdunk.”

Blake’s jaw dropped. “Really?”

“Yeah, not only do they think they have strong legal standing to have your charges dropped, but we were able to get the support of some pretty important diplomats from Atlas.”

“Thanks to Winter, of course,” Weiss added.

“Of course.” Jaune smiled at her. “What was even more impressive was when we reached out to the various Councils, you received vociferous support from Councilman Aspis, from Mistral.”

“I should hope so. She did save his life,” Yang remarked.

“He didn’t say that, probably couldn’t, on the record, but he did say he would back any push to clear her name. All of that said, we’re hoping to straighten this out before summer.”

“So soon?” Blake asked, dumbfounded.

“We’re pretty motivated.”

“Jaune has been working around the clock,” Pyrrha said, leaning proudly on his shoulder.

“Not just me,” he said. “But I felt bad for not being to help with Yang before, and, I don’t know, this is something I can do, so I’m doing it.”

“Thank you, Jaune. Really,” Blake said. “This means more to me than I can say.”

“You can thank us by coming up here this summer so we can have a proper wedding for you two,” Weiss declared.

“Yeah! We need to have an epic party,” Ruby said. “So we can welcome Blake to the family properly.”

“Do we get a choice in the matter?” Yang asked with a wry smile.

“No,” Ruby replied with an impish grin.

Pyrrha leaned forward. “Besides, it will give you a chance to defend, Yang. Dr. Polendina seems thrilled with your work.”

“Well, I guess that decides it, huh?” Blake said, gazing over at Yang.

“But what about your parents?”

“They can find time to travel for their daughter’s wedding.”

Yang beamed, leaning in to kiss Blake amidst further cheering from across the ocean. “Ok,” she said, looking into her favorite pair of golden eyes. “I guess we’re going back to Vale.”

“I guess so,” Blake agreed.

They kissed again and then wished their friends and family well, promising to stay in touch now that the tower was back up. Yang closed her scroll, looking at the ring on her finger for a quiet moment as Blake leaned against her, one hand gently running through her hair. They sat like that for a time, watching the sunset over the cerulean water, the sky a beautiful tableau that felt tailor-made for them.

\--

This is the part where it should be proclaimed that they lived happily ever after, but that would be a lie. No one, whether they’re alone or with the love of their life, will spend every moment of every day happy. Even if they tried, they would soon find their life to be hollow, shallow, and the life that Blake and Yang had together was anything but. It was full of light and shadow, color and sound, pain and pleasure, tears and laughter. Their life was full of all of these things and so much more, but most of all, it was just that: full.

There were moments of joy, it was true, but also moments of sorrow. There was anxiety and fear and excitement and relief. There were days where they felt nothing but exhausted (having children will do that to you), and days where they found themselves bursting with energy, ready to take on the world. More often, they were somewhere in the middle, somewhere in the vicinity of content. Even when the world around them sent chaos, they could always find peace in each other’s arms.

There were fights, evenings when they went to bed, not quite speaking, the sting of words said rashly still fresh in their hearts. There were many more nights where they reached for each other in the darkness with a youthful vigor every bit as urgent and passionate as their first time together decades prior.

So, did they live happily ever after?

No.

But they did live together ever after.

And that was enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow...that was a thing.
> 
> Thank you so much for coming with me on this journey! Really, I can't tell you how much your comments and kudos and readership means to me. This started as a whim, and became a nearly year-long project that ate up many happy (and some frustrating and tiring) hours, but knowing that there were people out there enjoying it as much as I was kept me going.
> 
> I'm probably going to take a bit of a rest now (my brain is tired), but there are other ideas kicking around that I'll hopefully get to soon, so stay tuned! As I'm super new to this whole writing thing, any and all comments are hugely appreciated, especially if they call out things you really liked (or didn't, I'll try not to take it personally!). Also, if you are so inclined and could recommend me to anyone you think might like this, I would be eternally indebted to you!
> 
> Thanks again!


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